


A Journey of Light and Shadow

by Galasriniel_Beriadanwen



Series: A New Day will Come [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blue Mountains | Ered Luin, City of Dale, Dragon Sickness, Dunland, Dwarves of Erebor in exile, Eventual romance Thorin/Alaisia, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Homesickness, Pre-Quest of Erebor, Rivendell | Imladris, Slow Burn, Stubborn Dwarves, Tharbad, regular updates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2019-11-09 00:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 92,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17991494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galasriniel_Beriadanwen/pseuds/Galasriniel_Beriadanwen
Summary: As the dragon-sickness corrupts King Thror’s mind and places Erebor at risk, Prince Thorin of Erebor travels to the vibrant city of Dale for the first time with his father. There, he meets a Dwarf-maid named Alaisia Glavrem, the daughter of a prominent merchant couple, and an unlikely friendship develops between the two. Strengthened through dragon fire and exile, their friendship provides a source of comfort in the face of an uncertain future. Thorin falls in love with Alaisia after fleeing the firestorm caused by Smaug. However, the madness of King Thror, and Alaisia’s fear that a secret in her family’s past may cause Thorin to despise her, threaten to keep the pair apart.A brief note: Chapters 1 - 11 feature Thorin and Alaisia's budding friendship in Erebor and Dale, culminating in Smaug's attack. After that, the story follows the Dwarves into exile in the West of Middle-earth.





	1. A Royal Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfiction. I’ve been working on it for a couple of years now, and I finally feel ready to share it. I wrote this story as a friends-to-lovers slow burn romance. There will be some angst, as well as some fluff to balance it, and I hope that you will enjoy the adventure that Thorin and Alaisia go on. As a general disclaimer, I only own my original characters. Thanks for reading!

**T.A. 2764**

The sight of a golden sunrise over the proud city of Dale never ceased to fill Alaisia’s heart with admiration for her home. It was her custom to set out at the break of day on a stroll through the city’s winding streets and abundant orchards. Pulling on a teal cloak as a barrier against the chill winds of early spring, Alaisia stepped out of her home and walked into the adjacent plaza.

“Good morning, lass! Out for yer morning stroll I see?” bellowed Haldan, a cheery merchant who lived next door to Alaisia’s family. He was rather short and stout for a human – so much so that Alaisia theorized he could well be of Dwarven descent – with rosy cheeks and graying hair.

“Good morning, Haldan! Yes, today I intend to venture to the northern end of the city so that I may look upon the gates of Erebor.” Alaisia replied.

Haldan, mischief glinting in his eyes, teased “Are you looking to catch a glimpse of the royal Dwarven caravan as it sets out from Erebor? I heard that the young crown prince Thorin travels with the caravan for the first time to-day; no doubt this rumor has also reached your ears. Quite a looker, by all accounts,” he added with a wink.

“Haldan, you know me better than to accuse me of seeking to ensnare a royal husband! I care not for such frivolous pursuits. Every once in a while I simply desire to look upon the place of my birth,” Alaisia huffed.

“Aye, lass, I was simply teasing! Fare thee well!” Haldan assured.

With a wave farewell, Alaisia set off along northern streets toward the overlook. She shook her head and smiled to herself at Haldan’s good-natured immaturity. Alaisia’s parents frequently remarked on how affable the citizens of Dale were – even to foreigners and Dwarven residents such as themselves. While Alaisia knew the people of Dale to be a friendly and cheery bunch on the whole, she also knew of the abundant wealth brought in by her parents and other Dwarven merchants. She was certain that gold had no small role in promoting amicable relations between the races of Dwarf and Man.

Having reached the overlook, Alaisia sighed at the splendor of the sight before her. Beyond rolling hills and verdant plains dotted with the first wildflowers of spring lay the immense doors to Erebor, chief kingdom of the Longbeards. She was only two years old when her parents left the Mountain to live in Dale as part of King Thror’s strategy to augment trade (and his coffers), so she had no memory of living in Erebor’s vast halls.

Curiosity brimmed within Alaisia to see the halls wherein her forebears resided. _Now that I am old enough, perhaps we can visit Erebor soon. I would dearly love to see it, though I would never want to live there. However grand the halls, I cannot imagine a life hidden beneath the Earth and away from the sun,_ Alaisia thought.

She hummed as a raven glided over the plains beneath the city walls. Something in Alaisia’s ancestry, unknown to most and a closely guarded secret by the few who did know, rendered her unique among Dwarf women _. I would not fit in well at Erebor at any rate. A beardless Dwarrowdam is a shameful Dwarrowdam to some and nothing more than a curiosity to others._

Her silent meditation was interrupted as more of her fellow citizens began to wake and converse. Alaisia reluctantly turned away from the overlook and decided to take a different route back home. Two humans stared at Alaisia, to all appearances befuddled by her solitary passage through the city. She murmured a good morning as she continued on her way.  The chief appeal of her early walk was that it served as a time of solitude and introspection, so Alaisia sought to keep conversation to a minimum.

 _Perhaps_ Adad _is right and I should not be so reserved…others always see me as standoffish, especiallly in as exuberant a city as Dale._

_~_

“Alaisia, you are late this morning! Your father and I have already eaten. Where were you off to?” Thila questioned. Thila was more curious than irritated, for Alaisia was rarely late.

“I apologize, _Amad_! I admit that I went on a longer walk than usual, but with good purpose – to look at Erebor.” Alaisia responded as she gave her mother a hug.

Thila’s eyes twinkled at the mention of Erebor and was about to remark when Morak boomed with a smile “Ah, Alaisia there you are! Back from your morning adventure!”

“Yes _Adad_ , I was just telling _Amad_ that I went to the northern overlook,” Alaisia declared.

Morak grinned and announced “Your mother and I have some news to share with you on the topic of Erebor. First, the three of us will visit the kingdom in August of this year.”

“Oh!” Alaisia exclaimed with surprise and glee.

“And…as you are aware, the royal caravan is coming today. As a result, your mother and I will not be operating the shop. We are to welcome the King’s son and grandson as they visit our shop and those of our fellow Dwarven merchants,” Morak explained.

“King Thror is not coming?” Alaisia questioned.

Thila hesitated before responding. “No, King Thror will not come. I have heard rumors that he is unwell, but I believe those rumors obscure the truth. I fear that the King’s true ailment may be avarice; the dragon-sickness that plagues his lineage.”

“But of course I would avoid bringing that up with Prince Thorin, should you speak to him. It is presumably a sensitive topic for him,” Morak cautioned.

Biting her lip, Alaisia replied “I too have heard of these rumors, and for the sake of the royal family and the subjects of Erebor I hope that they are untrue. Should I have the opportunity to converse with the Prince, I will find other topics of conversation.”

Unable to resist, Thila teased “Thorin may be curious about you.”

“Ha! Quite unlikely. And I do not enjoy discussing myself!” Alaisia replied.

“Regardless, we do not know when precisely to expect our royal visitors so go eat your breakfast and get changed into more proper attire, my _nathith_ ” Thila said.

~

Thorin rode on a pony at the head of the column next to his father Thrain. The procession gleamed as the morning sunlight reflected off of the ponies’ gilded armor. A mere ten guards accompanied the two royals, for in those days the passage from the Mountain to Dale was quite secure. Two standard bearers rode next to Thorin and Thrain; one bore aloft the official banner of the realm while the other bore a flag edged in silver with the royal emblem of the raven.

Grudgingly, Thorin admitted to himself that it was a lovely morning. Dew still clung to the wildflowers sprinkled across the plains, while the sky had but a few clouds. On any other day, experiencing such wonderful spring weather would be a joy to Thorin. But Thorin simply stared out at his surroundings with a slight grimace on his face.

“ _Inùdoy_ , what ails you? Merely yesterday you appeared quite eager to visit Dale for the first time. Why has your mood altered so much today?” Thrain asked.

With a sigh, Thorin muttered “Before we departed this morning I saw my grandfather surrounding himself with gems and gold in the treasury. His obsession with gold is worsening. When I bade him farewell, he acted as if he did not hear me or know me.”

Thrain knew well of the worsening condition of his father Thror.

“I am sorry, _inùdoy_. The dragon-sickness appears to be growing in your grandfather. I attempted to speak with him, but he shall hear no reason. Dragon-sickness is not something that can be treated or cured by others; it is a personal battle of mind and spirit. Do not let this darkness fill your heart, Thorin. Your grandfather will likely worsen before he is cured, but he shall emerge victorious from the dragon-sickness as our forebears have.”

Huffing in frustration, Thorin asked “ _Adad,_ not all of our forebears have been stricken by the dragon-sickness. Why did my grandfather succumb? Will I succumb one day?”

“Laddie, I wish I could answer that for you. I will tell you this: if ever you feel the pressure of avarice weighing upon your heart, do not shun those who love you as your grandfather has. Never assume that you will be safe from the sickness, but know that you can overcome it,” Thrain solemnly intoned.

“Thank you, _Adad_ ,” Thorin replied with a sad smile. “With my grandfather’s condition, our duty in representing the Crown of Erebor rises in importance. I must at least feign eagerness for our journey for the sake of diplomacy.”

Thrain nodded in assent. “Aye, lad. The task of preserving alliances lays on our shoulders now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are the translations for the Khuzdul phrases used in this chapter:  
> Nathith = daughter  
> Amad = mother  
> Adad = father  
> Inùdoy = son
> 
> Thank you for reading, and please leave comments with reviews, questions, and/or suggestions!


	2. First Meeting

When Thorin, Thrain, and their company arrived at the gates to the city, Lord Girion rode out to greet them.

“Hail Thrain and Thorin, son and grandson of Thror, the King under the Mountain! Well met, and welcome to our fair city.” Girion declared.

“I am grateful for your hospitality as always, Lord Girion. Allow me to introduce you to my son, the Prince Thorin.” Thrain replied.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Thorin,” Girion said.

Thorin inclined his head respectfully to acknowledge the greeting, and responded “I am glad to make your acquaintance as well, Lord Girion.”

As Thorin and his companions proceeded into the city on foot, Thorin felt his prior agitation regarding his grandfather’s condition diminish and become replaced by respect for the city before him. Its industrious inhabitants seemed cheery and generally polite, with the exception of some pausing to whisper to one another as they stared at the royal procession. The masonry was sturdy and commendable; not as grand as that within Erebor, but work that a master Dwarf stonemason would not be ashamed to claim as his own. The city burst with color from the vibrant merchant stalls and their wares to the banners and flags that flew in contrast to the brilliant sky.

 _Such abundance of orchards,_ Thorin thought. _Verdant islands amid a sea of stone._

Thrain and Thorin spoke to several of the Dwarven merchants King Thror sent to live and work in Dale. Most of the merchants were single or elderly, and all were thriving.

 _I wonder what it would be like to live here, without the troubles of my bloodline and the expectations of my title. A life under the open sun…_ Thorin shook his head. _Yet I have a duty that I would never dream of forsaking. My people and kingdom need me._

~

Thorin blinked and squinted as his eyes adjusted to the intensifying sunlight of early afternoon in a broad plaza. Stately dwellings encircled the plaza, some with gardens and porches, and in the center of the plaza stood a large fountain. One house had a shop next door to it, with a sign indicating its role as a jewelry and armory store. _That must be our next destination,_ Thorin thought. _There is Khuzdul lettering below the Common Tongue inscription on the sign_.

“We are about to meet the Glavrem family, a family that has long held high stature and wealth in Erebor. They descend of old from Narvi, crafter of the Doors to Moria with the aid of the Noldo Celebrimbor, and for that they are also called the Stone-hewers. Thila and Morak are the names of the couple, and their daughter is called Alaisia. She is a mere two years younger than you, Thorin!” Thrain explained to his son. “They are the last merchants we are to visit to-day, but by no means the least important. They were among the first to volunteer for King Thror’s trade initiative.”

Thorin’s eyes widened at the mention of Narvi, for as a young Dwarfling he had learned about the history of Moria, or Khazad-dum, the greatest realm of the Dwarves ere it fell to the Orcs.

“I am indeed intrigued by their history. However, I must admit that I am curious as to why they would choose to leave Erebor so soon after their daughter’s birth; if she is but two years my junior then she would have been but a small child when she moved to Dale. Has she ever returned to visit Erebor with her parents?” Thorin questioned.

“That is a question you must ask her yourself. I hear that she is quite lovely,” Thrain replied with a wink.

Thorin let out an indignant huff, some of his earlier irritation returning. _Does my father hope for a match between this Alaisia and I, or is he merely teasing me?_ Thorin pondered.

Sensing his son’s misunderstanding, Thrain reassured him “Don’t get yer beard all up in a knot lad, I’m not trying to marry you off. When the time comes for that, you will be free to choose your bride among respectable dwarrowdams.”

Thorin gave his father a brief smile, “forgive me, _Adad_. The heat of the afternoon seems to have seeped into my temper for a moment.”

Thrain nodded and affectionately cuffed the back of Thorin’s head. “Come along now, they are expecting us.”

When they arrived at the Glavrem home, Thrain knocked on the intricately carved sage green door and was greeted by the family.

“Hail, and well met. It has been quite some time since our last meeting, Lord Thrain,” Morak greeted.

“It has, and I am glad to see that the two of you as well as your daughter are in good health. I introduce to you Thorin, my son and heir. And Thorin, may I introduce to you Morak, Thila, and their daughter Alaisia,” Thrain declared.

As Thila, Morak, and Alaisia nodded politely and bowed, Thorin directed his attention to Alaisia.

_By Durin…she has no beard!_

If she were to ever grow a beard, it would have started coming in at least two to three years’ prior; moreover, Thorin saw none of the stubble or shadow that would indicate the work of shaving.

 _A beardless dwarrowdam – now that is strange. I wonder why she lacks a beard?_ Thorin thought.

Very soon however, he realized that Alaisia’s gaze was piercing him with a cold blue light. Thorin’s stomach lurched at the unsettling appraisal.

 _Mahal, she must have noticed me staring at her lack of a beard. I hope I have not offended her; I was merely surprised_ , Thorin worried.

Thorin tipped his head downward slightly to hide his embarrassment, and Thila said, “You and your company must be thirsty and hungry after walking through the city for so long. Please, come inside and enjoy our hospitality.”

Thrain thanked Thila and Morak for their welcome and motioned for his son, not yet recovered from his shame, to follow.

Thankfully, Thrain took the responsibility of much of the conversation with Thila and Morak. Alaisia and Thorin were only occasionally called upon to speak. When Thorin believed it safe, he gazed at Alaisia again. Although she lacked the facial hair typical of dwarrowdams, Alaisia was beautiful. Part of her hair was swept up into an intricately braided coronet while the rest of it fell in silky golden waves. She was clothed in a royal blue gown with translucent pale blue sleeves reminiscent of the color of her eyes. A silver necklace that resembled tendrils of plants rested around her neck.

Thorin saw Alaisia begin to tilt her head, and when she made eye contact with Thorin he tried to convey an apologetic look and inclined his head respectfully. For a painfully slow second, Alaisia retained her earlier cold stare, but she then softened and gave the slightest of nods as if to indicate that Thorin was forgiven.

 _I hope she will allow me a chance to properly apologize for my initial reaction later,_ Thorin thought concernedly.

The rest of the visit passed without adverse incident, although Thorin still felt a pang of guilt for his earlier unchivalrous behavior. He followed his father and the Glavrem family outside to inspect the store and forge.

 _These gems shine with the luster of the sun,_ Thorin marveled. _And the weapons are as sharp as a fire-drake’s teeth. The skill of the Glavrem family easily meets that of the old master dwarrows of Erebor._

 When Thrain and Thorin’s formal visit concluded, Thrain gave Thorin leave to wander the city until the evening, at which time a formal dinner was planned with Lord Girion and his family.

Thorin gratefully accepted his father’s offer of such freedom and turned to seek Alaisia, for she had not yet followed her family inside.

“My lady, forgive me for my earlier lapse of manners. I did not mean to offend you. I was simply surprised that you do not possess a beard,” Thorin finished rather awkwardly, humbly bowing his head and hoping that his words did not cause further offense.

To Thorin’s relief as he lifted his head, Alaisia smiled and replied “Think nothing of it. I appreciate and accept your apology. I am quite used to receiving such a reaction at first meetings. In fact, I have been mistaken for an incredibly short human before!” Alaisia finished with a light laugh.

“Mistaken for a human! I think I would be slightly offended at that. Although if you do not mind my asking, why is it that you do not have a beard? I must admit that I am curious, my lady,” Thorin carefully responded.

Seeing Thorin tense as if expecting a rebuke, Alaisia reassuringly said “Worry not, your words have caused me no offense. And please, refer to me only as Alaisia – I require no formal address for I am not a true noblewoman. As for your query, I am afraid I only feel comfortable providing you with a cryptic answer at the moment: my dearth of facial hair is a trait of the women in my line. This touches on rather sensitive family lore, so I will say no more at this time. I offer my apologies.”

Thorin’s shoulders relaxed again as he tried to conceal a sigh of relief. He had enough of embarrassment, irritation, and discomfort for one day. “I thank you, Alaisia, and you may refer to me simply as Thorin,” Thorin graciously offered.

“Then, Thorin, what business have you for the rest of the day? I noticed that your father has left,” Alaisia commented, somewhat perplexed.

“My father has given me the afternoon to spend at my leisure in the city, although I am expected to join him this eve at Lord Girion’s table for supper,” Thorin explained.

“That is very generous of him. What do you plan to do with your free time?” Alaisia queried.

“In all honesty, I had nothing planned. It is simply nice to enjoy some time away from the kingdom and my responsibilities there,” Thorin replied with a low chuckle.

“Well, if you have nothing planned, would you like to see my family’s garden and orchard? It is one of my favorite places to stroll in the afternoon when the heat of the sun grows,” Alaisia offered.

“Thank you, I will accept your kind offer,” Thorin responded. He followed Alaisia a few paces behind as she walked toward the garden, grateful at her willingness to forgive his error, but also more curious about her lack of a beard due to the cryptic response she supplied.

 _What secret lies in her family’s past?_ Thorin wondered.


	3. Sparring and Friendship

“Although my responsibilities are not as great as yours, I am also enjoying the time away from work,” Alaisia admitted as she paused to admire the vibrant color of a cluster of azaleas and daisies.

“Your parents referred to ‘our work’, so may I infer that you assist them in their business?” Thorin posited.

Alaisia laughed. “Yes, although I still have much to learn. I help my father forge weapons and armor, and I help my mother fashion jewelry,” Alaisia explained.

“I am impressed – rare is the dwarrowdam who works at the forge! If you have begun to work in forging blades, I assume you have some familiarity with their use. Have you been trained in the art of combat?” Thorin questioned.

“Aye, though I have greater skill with sword and bow than with axe or mace,” Alaisia humbly responded.

“Well then, if it is not too bold may I challenge you to a sparring match? I am curious to see your swordsmanship,” Thorin requested.

“I accept the challenge. Allow me some time to change into attire more appropriate for sparring and to retrieve my blade. There is a clearing in the garden up ahead where we may test our skills,” Alaisia added with a smile.

Eagerly, Thorin replied “Very well, I will await your return.”

~

While waiting for Alaisia’s return, Thorin wandered throughout the garden, breathing in the sweet floral air and gazing at the variety of effervescent color surrounding him.

 _No wonder Alaisia is fond of Dale. It is strange, but I already feel as if I can trust Alaisia. Rarely do I warm to friendship so rapidly…yet I perceive that I may find friendship with this unusual dwarrowdam. She is proud, yet not haughty. No one in Erebor outside the royal family is able to speak with me as she is,_ Thorin mused.

Alaisia’s return brought an abrupt end to Thorin’s musings. She was now wearing a leather chest guard over a cloth tunic and leggings. Vambraces held the tunic in place at the wrist, and Thorin noticed that they were intricately carved with a motif of tendrils and blossoms reminiscent of the very garden he stood in.

“Did you make those vambraces?” Thorin asked. “They remind me of this garden.”

“They are some of my more recent work. Leather-making and adornment came a bit more slowly to me than some of the other creative arts,” Alaisia bashfully admitted.

Sensing her embarrassment but perplexed by it in light of the impressive craftsmanship, Thorin graciously replied “I do not know why you are so humble. Those vambraces are exquisite.” Thorin paused and smiled as Alaisia murmured her thanks. “Now, shall we spar?” Thorin added with a grin.

The pair made their way to the clearing Alaisia referenced and drew their blades. Thorin made the first attack, but immediately regretted it as Alaisia adeptly dodged and spun so that her sword struck his with such force that he nearly dropped it. Although her earlier garb somewhat concealed it, Alaisia had very muscular arms. She was not to be underestimated – not that Thorin had intended to do so.

For some time, Thorin and Alaisia persisted in sparring, neither willing to concede defeat. Their blades glinted in the sunlight and the sharp clang of metal sounded throughout the garden as each Dwarf parried, spun, and thrust. To a distant observer, the sparring match might have the illusion of a dance of metal.

Whirling around from a near blow, Thorin brought his blade forward with all of the force he could muster. _This will defeat Alaisia for sure_ , Thorin thought. However, as his blade struck Alaisia’s, Thorin found that he could not summon the strength necessary to expel the sword from Alaisia’s hands.

Gritting his teeth and nearly grunting through the sweat and exhaustion, Thorin said “It appears we are evenly matched. Would you like to call this a draw?”

Alaisia whispered assent, and both she and Thorin stepped back. For a moment, the two Dwarves stared at one another, panting hard from the exertion of the match and the glare of the sun. Then, without a word between them, each burst out in laughter at the absurdity of their condition. They had fought for nearly an hour.

“You have some skill with a blade,” Thorin commented as he struggled to regain composure. “Greater, if I may say, than Dwarves my age whom I have trained against in Erebor.”

Letting out a last giggle, Alaisia replied with a mischievous smirk “Thank you, I appreciate the compliment. My parents sometimes call me their little steel-maiden! Although that match was inconclusive – we must spar again sometime to determine which of us bears the greater skill.”

“I will train in advance of that time,” Thorin teased. “I advise you to do the same, lest I beat you too easily.”

“Ha! Your challenge is accepted. I suppose it is evident to you already but I am very competitive, and a draw or loss only fuels my ire to attain victory the next time,” Alaisia declared.

“I look forward to it,” Thorin replied with an incline of his head as he sat down on a nearby bench. Alaisia joined him, and the two sat in silence for a moment, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

 _She’s probably already at work plotting how to defeat me next time,_ Thorin thought with mild amusement. But in truth, her expression was too serene to indicate such scheming. She seemed very content.

“To be honest, Thorin, I am a very…quiet person. I do not make friends easily, particularly because most people of my age in Dale are insufferably immature and mundane. You are very different from them, and it is perhaps for that reason that I feel as if I can already view you as a friend,” Alaisia finished, somewhat awkwardly and almost mumbling the last portion.

Thorin smiled gently, resting a hand on Alaisia’s shoulder. “You are not alone in that sentiment. For me, the challenge is slightly different. After all, there are not many immature young humans in Erebor,” Thorin noted with a smirk.

Alaisia let out a melodic laugh at the jest. Thorin continued, “Although there are plenty of Dwarves of my age at Erebor, I find myself counting kin alone among my friends – until now. I have little in common with most Dwarves my age; they do not have the burden and responsibility that I do, so my position frequently separates me from them.”

Frowning slightly, Alaisia responded “Although it does not surprise me that your title hinders you in friendship, I am sorry that it is so.”

“Think nothing of it. I have long been acquainted with my responsibilities as a prince; I have never known any other reality. Still, I am very glad that out of this diplomatic visit to Dale I have found a new friend,” Thorin concluded with a warm smile.

Alaisia said nothing but nodded and returned Thorin’s smile. Thorin saw a glimmer in her eyes, and knew that although she did not face the same burdens as he she was sympathetic. In personality, she was very much a kindred spirit to him and yet…different, in a way he could not quite define.

 _The steel-maiden_ , Thorin thought. _Very atypical of a dwarrowdam. She is open, yet concealed; I feel as if I have known her for more than a mere day, and yet I still know so little about her._

They conversed for a while longer, talking about life in Dale and Erebor, before they realized that the hour was growing late.

“Will you and your family dine at Lord Girion’s table tonight? My father informed me that the most prominent merchant families would be there, and it seems to me that the Glavrem family is the chief Dwarven family in the city,” Thorin asked.

Alaisia blushed deeply at this reference to her family’s prominence, but responded “Aye, we will be attending the feast this eve.” Recovering somewhat from her embarrassment, Alaisia let out a nervous laugh “I shall have to tidy my appearance first, for I am not fit to dine even at home in this state!”

“I believe that is true for me as well!” Thorin responded as he brushed a wayward strand of his raven black hair back into its proper position. “I must go find my father and ready myself for this evening, but I look forward to meeting with you again then. If my father is willing to permit it now that I have visited Dale once, I would like to return here to visit with you at times,” Thorin said. “Perhaps you could show me around the city?”

“I would enjoy that very much,” Alaisia nodded her head gratefully. “My parents and I intend to visit Erebor in August. It is strange to me that although Erebor is my birthplace, Dale is my home. When I visit Erebor, it will be as if I am seeing the kingdom for my first time,” Alaisia finished, almost wistfully, with a slight shake of the head.

Thorin’s smile broadened at the tidings of the Glavrem family visiting Erebor. “I look forward to your visit, and I will be sure to return the hospitality you and your parents have shown to my father and I.” Thorin rose, rubbing his right arm which was slightly sore from their earlier sparring. As Alaisia rose, Thorin bade her farewell for the time being and he set off to find his father, the morning’s sour mood banished completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The line “You have some skill with a blade” is spoken by Aragorn to Eowyn in The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. I adapted the line to my story because I wanted to make a reference to my favorite shield-maiden character! “Steel-maiden” is a variant on this concept. I feel it is a term better suited to Dwarves.


	4. Secrets of the Past

Alaisia ambled through the garden, thoroughly content with the events of the day. She had expected the prince to be haughty, not affable. Indeed, when Thorin first laid eyes on her and all but gaped like a fish at her lack of a beard Alaisia could not help but glare at Thorin, for it seemed that her suspicions regarding his nature were confirmed. However, as the group shifted to the Glavrem gathering room and Alaisia focused on the conversation, she found her indignation slipping. It was _painfully_ obvious that Thorin regretted his initial reaction; his head hung in shame as they first walked inside. And when Alaisia caught Thorin’s gaze, she saw nothing but genuine sorrow in his eyes at having offended her.

 _Almost like a young pup who found itself out of favor upon doing wrong,_ Alaisia thought.

She then found herself unable to maintain her ire, and gave the Prince the gentlest, most polite nod she could muster.

_Ah, perhaps I was wrong to be so furious at first. How else is he expected to react to a dwarrowdam bereft of a beard? Not to mention my unusual figure – slight yet muscular, and not at all stout._

Alaisia paused to remove her vambraces as she stepped inside. Her parents greeted her and all but laughed at her dirty, sweaty state.

 “I see you made a new friend in the Prince via swordplay? Your mother and I were watching; we are impressed that you matched him in talent!” Morak said.

Alaisia placed her hands on her hips and looked between her parents in mock indignation. “You were watching us the entire time? Well, do not fear, I am going to cleanse myself before this evening’s feast,” Alaisia replied as she stifled a giggle.

Alaisia walked down a hallway to her quarters to draw herself a bath. As she settled into the water to cleanse herself, she found a new thought tugging at the corners of her subconscious.

_What would Thorin think of me if he knew the truth of my ancestry?_

For Alaisia was not a typical dwarrowdam in appearance or blood. Yes, she descended from Narvi, the master artisan who created the doors of Moria. But she was not descended from his son as was recorded. She was instead descended from Nalonís, the daughter of Narvi. Celebrimbor, son of Curufin, son of Fëanor, ruled in Eregion during the Second Age of Arda. He forged a close connection with the Dwarves of Moria, carving the doors of Moria with Narvi and discovering the metal _mithril_.

However, Celebrimbor’s connection with the Dwarves was not solely diplomatic. Nalonís was a great beauty among dwarrowdams, for she had the stature of the Dwarves but the grace of the Elves. With time, Celebrimbor became smitten with the Dwarf-maid and she with him, and the two engaged in an affair known to Nalonís’ kin but not to outsiders for they feared that few would approve. Although unmarried, Nalonís and Celebrimbor made love and had a son. In the official histories, their son was recorded as a son of Nalonís’ brother and given a Khuzdul name.

Celebrimbor and Nalonis’ son was not granted the choice of being judged among the Eldar, for though he was half-Elven he was also half-Dwarven, and Dwarves were the children of Aulë not of Illuvatar. Since that crossing of the Firstborn of Illuvatar and the children of Aulë, the men of Alaisia’s line had possessed scant facial hair and the women none. All enjoyed slightly longer lifespans as compared to the typical Dwarf, but none were immortal.

Thus Alaisia was not entirely Dwarven; some Elvish blood coursed through her veins. The secret of the Glavrem family’s ancestry was closely guarded because most Dwarves despised the Elves and Alaisia’s family feared that they would not gaze kindly upon such a connection, however ancient it may be. Indeed, Morak was convinced that the Glavrem family might not have attained its high status were the truth known. Yet the Glavrem family was proud of its heritage, for it remembered that the Elves of Eregion were Dwarf-friends, and that Celebrimbor was a great lord. In the family tradition, Alaisia was given a second, Elven name: Idhrenniel, which means “wisdom”.

_If Thorin knew, he would despise me and not wish to befriend me. He would be disgusted. Would that circumstances were different; that the Dwarves did not so despise the Elves and that we did not have to live in the shadow of the fear that our secret may be discovered._

Sighing, Alaisia eased herself out of the bath to finish preparing herself for the evening ahead.


	5. Girion's Banquet

Alaisia followed her family into the domed great hall of Dale. She had dined there several times before, and she greatly admired the lavish quality of the room. Tapestries detailing the history of Dale adorned the walls while vines gently curled around the grand stone columns. Small flowers blossoming on the vines gave the room a sweetly aromatic scent.

She peered around her parents, seeking to find Thorin, and saw that he was standing with his father at the other end of the room. He was wearing his royal ensemble, a black fur cloak with a silken blue tunic underneath. Thorin turned his head to look about the room and saw Alaisia. He smiled and nodded to her and she did the same in return. When Thorin looked at her, she felt a slight tingle.

 _That was rather unusual. I hope I am not falling ill,_ Alaisia thought.

After Girion had greeted each of his guests as they entered, everyone took their seat at the table. Thorin and his father sat opposite one another at the head of the table nearest Girion, while the Glavrem family was seated near the royal family with other merchant families seated in decreasing rank toward the rear of the table.

Girion stood to make a speech for the occasion. “Welcome, my friends, to my table. I am pleased to have the lords Thrain and Thorin join me for supper this evening, as well as several of this city’s preeminent Dwarven merchant families. Since King Thror and I signed the new trading agreement fourteen years ago in 2750, trade between the realms of Dale and Erebor has greatly increased. Each realm is more prosperous as a result. I am deeply grateful to all of you for helping to make this prosperity possible, and I raise my glass to many years of abundance to come.”

All present murmured their appreciation as glasses were raised in salute to Girion’s speech. Alaisia started eagerly, but mannerly, on her meat. She might have some Elvish blood, but in food preference she was almost entirely Dwarvish.

She paused to look over at Thorin, who was across the table and to the left of her. He was engaged in conversation with Girion, discussing the business arrangements involved in the trading agreement. _Information that will be important for him to understand when he is King one day,_ Alaisia thought.

King. Yes, Alaisia could see in Thorin’s noble demeanor that he would make a fine king someday. But she pitied him rather than envied him for the responsibilities that would entail. Furthermore, she felt a twinge of fear for him as she recalled the dragon-sickness that blighted his lineage. _Perhaps with friendship and cognizance of the danger of the ailment that fate can be averted_.

~

After the feast concluded, the visitors lingered to converse amongst themselves as well as with Lord Girion. Alaisia’s parents went to speak with Girion while Alaisia turned to seek Thorin, becoming quite startled when she nearly bumped into him in the process. Evidently, he had already sought her out.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you,” Thorin earnestly apologized.

 _It seems he will always be apologizing to me for something or another_ , Alaisia wryly thought.

“There is no need to apologize, it is quite crowded in here.” Looking about her with a slight frown, and then speaking with a smirk Alaisia remarked “Although given the quantity of wine and ale consumed by some of the guests I am surprised that the behavior of the group is so tame. I have been to many a dinner among Dwarves where the eve ended in drinking games and good-humored fistfights. But of course this is a more formal occasion.”

Thorin laughed. “I know well the behavior you speak of. I, too, have observed such rowdiness among Dwarves in Erebor, particularly at our annual Durin’s Day celebrations. I have some interesting news to impart to you: The Elvenking Thranduil and his embassy are coming to Erebor at the same time as your visit. Some time ago, Thranduil asked our finest gem-smiths to craft jewelry out of the famed Gems of Lasgalen, and the work will be concluded shortly before his visit.”

At the mention of Elves, Alaisia felt a momentary pang of panic sear through her. _Why does he think that is interesting news? Has he guessed about my ancestry?_ However, she looked at Thorin and understood from his innocuous expression that he did not know; he simply wanted to share news he had heard with her.

“I have heard of the Gems of Lasgalen that belonged to Thranduil’s late wife. It is said that their beauty is as the starlight reflecting on a clear mountain spring. I imagine this is a significant diplomatic event, for Thranduil would not entrust those gems to other hands lightly,” Alaisia replied.

“Indeed he would not. Although I confess I am concerned about the visit. I have seen my grandfather watching the work of the gem-smiths on Thranduil’s commission and the look of desire in his eyes. Not that my grandfather would ever withhold commissioned work…” Thorin halted his discourse abruptly, frowning and shaking his head. “I fear I may have said too much. My concern for my grandfather is not something to trouble you with.” His eyes were dark and troubled akin to a stormy sea, suddenly bereft of their prior mirth.

Alaisia knew from Thorin’s unguarded words that the rumors of King Thor’s illness were not without truth. He seemed to be falling into the grasp of the dragon-sickness. Tactfully, she said “Thorin, I have no right or wish to intrude upon your family’s private matters. But if ever you feel the need to talk to someone about what troubles you, do not hesitate to speak with me. Bitterness and fear kept to oneself seldom prove beneficial.”

Thorin’s eyes widened, evidently surprised at Alaisia’s offer. He was, however, pleased that she was sympathetic and that she did not press him further on the matter. “Thank you, Alaisia. I will bear your offer in mind.” Pausing for a moment, Thorin asked “There is a question that I have been mulling over this afternoon – why did your family leave Erebor when you were but a small child? Forgive me if it is impertinent to ask.”

Letting out a light laugh, Alaisia replied “You know, my parents never have told me their full reasoning for the relocation to Dale. I can only assume that it was to explore an opportunity to expand the family business, but they may have had other reasons.”

Thorin nodded, apparently still deep in thought. The soft sounds of music began to spread throughout the room and Alaisia looked up to see the other attendees beginning to dance. She glanced back at Thorin, whose gaze briefly swept over the dancing couples in the room.

“It seems that Lord Girion has arranged for a dance this evening. Would you care to join me?” Thorin asked politely.

“I-sure,” Alaisia stammered awkwardly. “I must warn you that I have little practice. I would not wish to embarrass you.”

Chuckling softly, Thorin extended his hand to Alaisia. “I might offer the same warning to you. We will figure it out together.”

The pair fell into an easy swaying dance as they mimicked the other dancers in the room. Alaisia noticed that Thorin had clearly bathed somewhere after their earlier sparring match, for he smelled of pine and sage. He held her gently as if he were afraid she might break with too much pressure. Still, dancing proved less awkward than Alaisia feared it might be; in fact, it was even arguably pleasant.

Gradually, the music slowed and ceased and the dancing couples broke apart.

“Thank you for dancing with me,” Alaisia said to Thorin as the two walked to the edge of the room. He bowed slightly.

“Although I must return to Erebor with my father now, I hope to visit again soon. I enjoyed meeting you today, and I will send a raven when I am able to return.”

Alaisia nodded, and smiled as she bade Thorin farewell.

As Alaisia and her parents made their way home, Alaisia found that the image of Thorin’s eyes, alternately troubled and joyous, always blue like a sapphire bathed in the varied hues of a lake, lingered in her mind. _Thorin is rather handsome, with his raven hair and crystalline eyes,_ Alaisia thought. _Yet it is unlike me to pay so much heed to appearance._ Shaking her head in confusion, Alaisia realized that she had unwittingly fallen behind her parents. She hastened to catch up.

~

On the ride back to Erebor, Thrain glanced over at his son and saw the brooding look he had grown to know too well recently. Until recently, when Thor’s illness rendered itself more apparent, Thorin had been a serious but generally happy lad. Now, he frequently fell into sorrow and introspection. _It must be difficult for the poor lad to understand what is happening to his beloved grandfather. Thror is different of late, and not the same dwarrow who used to play with a giggling young Dwarfling,_ Thrain thought.

“I am glad that you enjoyed your first visit to Dale, Thorin. But it seems to me now that your earlier sour disposition has returned. Are you again troubled about your grandfather?” Thrain queried.

“When I was speaking with Alaisia I forgot myself and revealed something of my concern for his condition to her. Nothing too obvious, but being perceptive she understood what I meant,” Thorin murmured.

“If that is what troubles you, my lad, I shall set you at ease. While I have tried to shield you from it, rumors have spread abroad of your grandfather’s changing temperament. It may well be that Alaisia had already heard these rumors, so you needn’t feel that you have dishonored our family, Thorin,” Thrain said to his son.

“Thank you, _Adad_ , I appreciate your words. But there is something else. I asked Alaisia about why her family left Erebor when she was so young, and she is under the impression that it was merely to expand their business and trade. You have told me before, however, that fourteen years ago the first inklings of the dragon-sickness began to appear in my grandfather. I believe there is more to the trade agreement with Dale than you have told me,” Thorin replied, looking at his father with questioning eyes.

Thrain sighed. _I knew he would ask eventually. The lad is quite bright._ “Yes, _inùdoy_ , there is. When I first saw the warning signs of dragon sickness, I thought that organizing a new trade venture would serve to both divert your grandfather and strengthen political ties with Dale. I failed to consider how the additional influx of wealth into our kingdom would only fuel your grandfather’s ailment.”

Thrain dipped his head in shame, only to feel a gentle tug on his shoulder.

“ _Adad_. You mustn’t blame yourself. The dragon-sickness had already started taking hold of Grandfather. He would have attempted to grow the coffers through some means, and at least the means you suggested have served to strengthen diplomatic ties with not only Dale but also Esgaroth,” Thorin said.

 _I am so proud of my son,_ Thrain thought as he wiped a tear from his eye. “Thank you, lad, for not blaming me. I am weary though, and eager to reach home and rest.”

~

Thorin stepped into his chambers and shut the door carefully behind him, thoroughly exhausted. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, yet sleep seemed impossible at the moment. He was thinking about his conversation with his father, and about his dance with Alaisia.

_Alaisia. So understanding, so sympathetic. She knows of the dragon-sickness, I am sure of it._

Thorin rubbed his beard. _What of it? Why does the fact that she knows still trouble me so?_

He paced about the room lost in thought.

_I am afraid of being judged for the deeds and behavior of my forebears. I am afraid of succumbing to the same fate. But she danced with me, even after that revelation..._

It seemed to Thorin that something more influenced his concern, but he could not quite name it.

 _I scarcely know Alaisia, and yet I feel as if I understand her and am understood in return_.

Shaking his head slightly, Thorin changed into his bedclothes and climbed into bed, falling into a deep and dreamless slumber.


	6. Thorin Reunited with his Siblings

The next morning, Thorin was startled awake as his younger siblings burst into his bedchamber.

“Thorin! How was Dale?” Dis squealed as she ran to her groggy brother’s side. She was only seven years old at the time, curious and filled with boundless energy.

“Soothe yourself, Dis, Thorin arrived home late last evening and he must be weary. He can tell us about Dale later,” Frerin gently admonished his little sister. Frerin, thirteen years of age, was already becoming more like his brother in personality and losing some of his youthful impishness.

Blinking away the exhaustion that threatened to draw him back into sleep, Thorin responded “Thank you Frerin, but it is fine. I understand that both of you must be curious to hear about Dale.”

“See? Thorin is not mad at me!” Dis pouted while jabbing Frerin in the side with her elbow.

Thorin looked at Frerin and rolled his eyes, mouthing _What can I say?_  Frerin nodded and stifled a laugh as he tousled his sister’s hair.

“Let us all eat breakfast and then I will tell you about my visit to Dale with _Adad_ ,” Thorin declared.

~

After the siblings ate, they sat by the fire in the gathering room of the royal chambers. Dis and Frerin listened eagerly to Thorin recount his tale, although Thorin was frequently interrupted by the inquisitive Dis. He loved his sister dearly though and had not the heart to be frustrated with her. _She reminds me of our mother; of how intelligent and energetic she was,_ Thorin thought.

As Thorin told his siblings of his burgeoning new friendship with the dwarrowdam Alaisia, Dis’ eyes grew wide. Due to Dwarven women being less common than their male counterparts, Dis came into contact with dwarrowdams less often. She wanted to hear all about Alaisia, and when she found out that Alaisia had matched Thorin in swordsmanship she clapped her tiny hands together and cried out, “I want to meet Alaisia! She sounds strong!”

Thorin smiled and replied “Both of you shall meet her. She and her parents are coming to Erebor in August. Prior to then, if _Adad_ is willing, I would like to visit her in Dale. And before you ask, you are still too young to come Dis.”

Dis gave Thorin an indignant frown, but nonetheless crawled into his lap and closed her eyes.

“I’m glad you are back, _Nadad_ ,” Dis murmured.

Frerin settled in next to his brother and sister, clapping his hand on Thorin’s shoulder.

“As am I. Grandfather was in one of his particularly ill moods yesterday. Balin, Dwalin, Fundin, Groin, Gloin, and Oin were all away on trading ventures in addition to you and _Adad_ so we had no one to keep us company,” Frerin wistfully grumbled.

Thorin frowned and hugged both of his younger siblings. “I am sorry to have left you two behind yesterday. However, I will not be going away again for some time, and when I do make a visit to Dale I will ensure that someone is here to keep the two of you company.”

_It is difficult enough for me to cope with the drastic change in my grandfather’s temperament, but Frerin and Dis are so young. They do not understand it as well. Would that the dragon-sickness had come later, or that it had not come at all!_

~

Alaisia resumed her typical daily routine, with a walk in the morning followed by helping her parents in their crafting. In the late afternoon and early evenings, Alaisia attended to her studies and her parents assisted her with weapons training. The memory of her draw with Thorin still lingered in Alaisia’s mind, so she desired to improve her skill in order to defeat Thorin the next time they sparred. She received a letter from Thorin via raven once, shortly after his visit, reaffirming his intent to visit her in Dale again soon as he received permission to do so from his father. But as time passed and Alaisia heard nothing more from Thorin, she began to wonder if his royal obligations would render him too busy to visit her in Dale.

One afternoon, nearly a month after Thorin’s initial visit, Alaisia heard the croaking sound of a raven’s cry and eagerly stepped out of the forge.

_That must be a letter from Thorin! I should bring a dish of water and some berries for the bird – it seems only fair that the poor creature receive a reward for delivering a message on such a stiflingly warm day._

The raven gratefully ate while Alaisia read the scroll it carried. Apparently Thorin had intended to visit sooner, but family duties prevented it.

 _His grandfather must be worsening_ , Alaisia realized.

Nonetheless, Thorin said that he would be visiting the next day if acceptable, and he hoped that he had not caused any insult in failing to maintain communication.

Rather than insult, Alaisia felt joy at the prospect of her friend returning to Dale. She wrote a message thanking Thorin and assuring him that she understood his inability to visit sooner. The raven bowed its head to her, and she to it, before the raven again took flight toward Erebor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translation: nadad = brother


	7. Thorin Returns to Dale

Alaisia’s parents gave her permission to spend the afternoon exploring the city with Thorin. In general, they did not expect Alaisia to work at the forge every day; she simply chose to as she enjoyed the work. She had instructed Thorin to meet her in the plaza in front of her home, from whence they could wander about the city. While eager for a sparring rematch, Alaisia did not want to pester the presumably stressed Thorin with combat.

“Hello, Miss Alaisia! Waiting for yon Dwarf bachelor?” Haldan bellowed with a cheeky nod in Thorin’s direction, who was walking up the street with the confusion of one who finds himself mildly lost.

“Yes, Haldan, although I would request that you keep your voice down. Thorin is here as a _friend_ , not on official business or whatsoever else you may be implying,” Alaisia admonished Haldan.

“Aye, lass, whatever ye say,” Haldan replied with a wink.

 _I know that wink well. It seems not even the presence of the Prince of Erebor can rein in Haldan’s immaturity,_ Alaisia thought with mild exasperation.

“Farewell for now Haldan, and try to avoid getting into _too_ much mischief,” Alaisia cautioned him with a smile _._ In spite of Haldan’s frequent immaturity, Alaisia and her parents were quite fond of him; he was a very genial neighbor and a good friend. He never treated her family differently or coldly because they were Dwarves.

Alaisia walked toward Thorin, and caught his eye as he was looking around in bewilderment. As Alaisia reached him, Thorin remarked “Dale is a fair city, but I fear it has too many plazas with fountains. I was becoming quite worried that I had taken a wrong turn and was lost!”

“Dale’s layout can be quite confusing to the uninitiated,” Alaisia teased. She laughed as she saw Thorin’s mock indignation. “It is good to see you again, my friend, although I fear that you have not been well.” This last remark came after Alaisia noticed that dark circles lined the skin below Thorin’s eyes.

“I am happy to meet with you as well, Alaisia. I shall be honest with you: I fear for my grandfather. You know, I deem, of his particular ailment. My father and I are stepping in to fill some of his duties. However, my father believes that the stress of seeing my grandfather transform so adversely is wearing on me and now insists that I take time for myself, away from the Mountain. I have wanted to before now but felt that duty precluded it. I will visit you more frequently in the months to come,” Thorin explained.

Alaisia’s eyes softened with sorrow for Thorin’s plight. _How hard it must be to see a loved one fall from grace, from sanity; to see a loved one transformed and transfixed by greed_. Softly, she said “Thorin, I do know of the dragon-sickness. My words at Lord Girion’s banquet hold true: I am here for you, whenever you desire a friend to speak to.” Seeing Thorin smile, but frown slightly and look away with something like shame, Alaisia rested her hand softly on his shoulder. “Thorin, you need not be ashamed for your grandfather’s condition. It does not define _you_. You are a different person than he,” she reassured him.

Thorin’s eyes brightened, and he gave Alaisia’s hand a light squeeze in gratitude, unable to find the appropriate words.

Alaisia lifted her hand, and said “Come, let us think of happier things. Dwelling in fear and sorrow will do you no good.”

Thorin met Alaisia’s gaze, and smiled. His eyes appeared more joyous, or at least less troubled. “I concur. On my last visit, I saw only a small portion of the city. Show me your favorite areas of the city. It will be interesting to hear the perspective of a Dale native,” Thorin teased.

“While I am not a true ‘Dale native’, as you state it, I do view this city as my home and am quite proud of it. I shall endeavor to do it justice,” Alaisia replied with a smile. “But first, I believe we should venture to the gates of the city, so that you may find your bearings again.”

Thorin huffed and was about to retort when Alaisia started walking, nearly running ahead of him.

“Come along, Thorin! Do not fall behind!” Alaisia teased with a backwards glance.

Shaking his head in amusement, Thorin hurried to match his pace to Alaisia’s.

~

Over the duration of the afternoon, Alaisia guided Thorin throughout the city of Dale. After initially running ahead of Thorin, Alaisia slowed her pace and the two Dwarves walked side by side, pausing at times so that Alaisia could explain the importance of a particular site to Thorin. Thorin marveled at the diversity of the city and at the sophistication of its civic planning. Parks for children to play were dotted throughout the city, and a plumbing system brought running water to each residential district. Dale even possessed a library available to the general populace, for the citizens of Dale were well-educated. The arts flourished, with sculptures frequently adorning plaza fountains and grand paintings plastering the walls of public buildings. Alaisia explained to Thorin that the city possessed an academic class as well as a merchant class, a working class, and an upper class of town nobles.

 _I was unaware of the skill that Men possess. This city, while not so grand as Erebor, is a masterpiece of engineering_ , Thorin thought as he gazed about in awe.

Thorin noticed that Alaisia beamed as she discussed the various features of her city. _She is as proud of Dale as I am of Erebor_ , Thorin realized. _This human realm is her home, even if it is not her birthplace._

Near the end of their afternoon together, Alaisia and Thorin came to a secluded park at the western edge of the city.

“This is my favorite place in the city,” Alaisia whispered.

It was no small wonder that Alaisia whispered. The park seemed ancient yet comforting; a place to respect as well as to relax in. Heritage oak trees were interspersed with pine and poplar, with vines gently embracing the trunks of some of the trees. A rose garden, filled with greater variety of roses than Thorin was aware existed, including the native Dale rose, was nestled into the central clearing of the park. Budding wildflowers dotted the perimeter. There were no benches here, as there were in many of the other parks, but the grass was soft and springy below Thorin’s feet.

 _I feel as if I could linger here forever. It is so peaceful and quaint_ , Thorin mused.

Alaisia turned to face Thorin. “Is the park to your liking?” she asked with a glimmer in her eyes.

Thorin nodded. “Very much so. We have nothing like it in our halls at Erebor, though I wish we did. It is quite peaceful; I feel as if here I am unburdened from my concerns; as if I am free,” he whispered wistfully.

Alaisia gently rested her hand on Thorin’s shoulder as a gesture of comfort, at which Thorin gave a wan smile. “Thorin, many burdens press upon you. That I cannot change. But I implore you to think of this environ, of how serene and undisturbed it is, whenever the weight of your concerns bear down upon you. While I cannot claim to have worries comparable to yours, if ever I am ill at ease this park never fails to soothe me.”

Thorin supplied a broader smile, and shook his head lightly as if casting aside his worries. “Thank you, Alaisia, you are a true friend,” he replied gratefully.

 _She has a gift for sympathizing with and comforting others. When she speaks, I feel at ease,_ Thorin thought.

The two friends strolled in the park for the remainder of the afternoon, in mingled conversation and content silence. At last, it came time for Thorin to depart to return to Erebor.

“Forgive me, Alaisia, as we have not yet had a rematch in sparring. It is my intent to visit again in a couple of weeks, and I will send a raven to let you know of the precise date. I thank you earnestly for showing me this picturesque area of the city. While for now I must depart, I very much look forward to visiting again soon, for I find that speaking with you does much to alleviate the ill mood I have borne of late,” Thorin declared with a respectful incline of his head toward Alaisia.

Softly smiling, Alaisia responded “Worry not about the sparring rematch; I believe that more training would serve me well. I am glad to have your company when you are able to visit again. For now, farewell, and I hope that you will have a safe journey back to Erebor.”


	8. Exploring Erebor

Over the ensuing months, Thorin made fairly regular visits to Dale. Alaisia found herself growing closer to Thorin in friendship, and perceived that Thorin felt the same. Indeed, as time progressed, Alaisia found herself growing ever more eager for Thorin’s visits.

On a sunny summer’s morn in August, the Glavrem family set out on ponies for Erebor. Each member of the family was bedecked in their finest apparel, for they were to attend a royal banquet in the kingdom that night.

“Even though Erebor is below ground, it is filled with the light of thousands of candles, torches, and chandeliers. Its enormity does not preclude a warm and inviting atmosphere,” Thila explained to her daughter.

“For long I have been curious to visit Erebor. It seems strange that I was born there, yet I have no memory of the place. I am gladdened by the fact that our visit shall last for a full sennight, as I am eager to explore the Mountain,” Alaisia mused.

Thila and Morak exchanged a knowing glance with one another. They were aware of Thorin’s letter explaining that his father gave him leave to acquaint Alaisia with Erebor, and each felt that their underneath their daughter’s fondness for her friendship with Thorin resided a deeper sentiment.

Alaisia did not notice, for in her eagerness to see Erebor she had ridden slightly ahead of her parents.

“Alaisia, slow down! You shall leave us far behind at this pace,” Morak chided with a laugh.

“ _Adad, Amad,_ you two should increase your pace! You are riding far too slowly!” Alaisia responded with a giggle.

Morak shook his head in amusement at his daughter’s stubbornness, but both he and Thila hastened their ponies to ride alongside Alaisia.

~

Thorin stood at the main gate to the kingdom with his father and grandfather. Dis and Frerin, his younger sister and brother, stood on either side brimming with curiosity to meet the Glavrem family Thorin had spoken of with such esteem. Accompanying them were Fundin, Balin, Dwalin, Groin, Oin, and Gloin, all members of the royal family.

“Welcome Morak, Thila, and Alaisia Glavrem,” King Thror gruffly declared.

“We are glad to have your company in our halls,” added Thrain with ill-concealed irritation at his father’s curt greeting.

“The Glavrem family thanks you for your welcome, Your Grace,” Morak replied, as he, Thila, and Alaisia bowed to King Thror.

Thorin felt twinge of concern with regard to his grandfather’s demeanor, but relaxed when Alaisia gave him a quick, reassuring smile.

 _She understands, as do her parents. I am among friends; I need not fret_ , Thorin thought.

More than anything, he was happy to see Alaisia again – in Erebor at last.

_It is indeed different from Dale, but it has its own merits. How strange it must be for her to be surrounded by fellow Dwarves when she is accustomed to residing in a city of mainly Men._

Interrupting his thoughts, Thorin said “I am glad to see you have made it to the Mountain safely. Come, allow me to introduce you to my younger siblings Dis and Frerin, as well as to my cousins: Balin, Dwalin, and their father Fundin; Oin, Gloin, and their father Groin.”

Thorin felt his gaze drifting to Alaisia throughout the welcome. Alaisia’s face was slightly tanned by exposure to the sun, giving her a healthy glow complemented by the gold brocade dress she wore. _She looks lovely,_ Thorin thought somewhat bashfully.

Alaisia and her parents greeted the others, while Dis and Frerin ran forward eagerly.

“Miss Alaisia!” Dis squealed, nearly running into Alaisia. “My brother said that you nearly beat him in a sword-fighting match! Could you teach me how to fight?”

Laughing, Alaisia replied, “Yes, young Dis, I would be very happy to teach you if your brother would allow it. But only when you are old enough. As of now, you are still too young.”

Dis gave her eldest brother a pointed stare.

“Yes, Dis, Alaisia may teach you. I shall only permit it on the condition that you improve your manners, however,” Thorin added, subtly chiding his sister for nearly colliding with his friend.

Dis gave a broad smile to her brother that faded a bit as the last portion of his sentence sunk in.

“Forgive my younger sister’s eagerness, Miss Alaisia. I am pleased to meet you,” Frerin humbly declared with a slight bow.

“I am pleased to meet you, Frerin, and your younger sister. Please, just call me Alaisia,” Alaisia responded with a quick curtsy.

Thrain walked over. “I am glad to see you again, Alaisia. I very much appreciate the friendship you have shown my son,” he declared with a warm smile. “Thorin, you can escort Alaisia around the Mountain now. Morak, Thila, and I have some business matters to discuss. Balin will take Dis and Frerin back to the royal chambers.”

Dis’ face fell, and Frerin looked somewhat disappointed as well. Thorin looked at Alaisia out of the corner of his eye, and saw that her face fell upon seeing the two Dwarflings disappointed so.

“My lord, could Dis and Frerin come with Thorin and I?” Alaisia queried politely. Thorin smiled at Alaisia’s consideration of his siblings.

Thrain appeared surprised. “Yes, they can go if they are so eager. I simply wanted to spare you the trouble of a couple of rambunctious Dwarflings,” Thrain added with a booming chuckle. Both Dis and Frerin appeared mildly indignant.

Thorin assured his father that he would keep Dis and Frerin out of trouble and motioned for his younger siblings to follow Alaisia and him. Alaisia waved at her parents in farewell, and set off with Thorin to explore Erebor.

~

As Alaisia followed Thorin throughout the Kingdom of Erebor, she gazed in wonder about her, occasionally reaching out to touch the smooth green stone of a mighty column. _It is just like a forest of stone,_ Alaisia thought. Thorin had described Erebor to her before, but Alaisia felt that his descriptions were too humble. Erebor was imbued with _wealth_ , and prestige, and an ancient majesty not unlike Dale. Innumerable forges shone amid candlelit halls, and in hallways near the mining regions the air echoed with the metallic clinks of chisels.

Alaisia walked alongside Thorin, with Dis and Frerin following shortly behind them. Dis occasionally ran forward to interject her thoughts into the conversation or to ask Alaisia a question.

“Your little sister is adorable, Thorin,” Alaisia commented. “And I believe that your little brother is a cross of your personality and Dis’ – rambunctious at times, but also polite and well-mannered.”

Thorin chuckled, and faced Alaisia. “Dis is a sweet little Dwarfling, but she is curious and filled with questions. When she wears out one of us, she seamlessly moves onto badgering another.”

As Thorin turned and kept walking, Alaisia smiled to herself. Being here, with Thorin and his siblings, felt so natural. She felt very happy and content. _How fortunate I am to have his friendship_ , Alaisia thought.

 Thorin paused, and extended a hand to Alaisia to help her as they descended down an uneven stairway.

“This area is due for remodeling soon,” Thorin explained apologetically as he turned to help his siblings.

 _How chivalrous_ , Alaisia thought. Yet she also felt a slight tingle when Thorin reached to grab her hand. His hand was strong, warm, and reassuring. _Almost like a cloak on a cold winter’s eve_ , her mind proffered.

Alaisia looked back at Thorin fondly as he helped his siblings. _He is a very good brother_ , Alaisia thought fondly. _Very protective of his siblings – and it is clear that they adore him_.

Thorin returned to Alaisia, and motioned for her and his siblings to follow him through the corridor.

~

In the evening, prior to the welcoming feast, Thorin led Alaisia to the chambers she was to share with her parents. They had been granted guest rooms in the royal chambers – a high honor that, according to Thorin, was due to the Glavrem family’s importance in Dale and the family’s ancient connection to Narvi.

Alaisia bade Thorin farewell, and entered the chambers. _Everything here is opulent and touched with the finest gold and silk. I am almost afraid to touch these furnishings,_ Alaisia thought.

“ _Amad, Adad,_ it is good to see you again!” Alaisia said as she greeted her parents with a hug.

“Did Erebor meet your expectations, or did it surpass them?” Thila asked.

“Surpassed. The two of you, as well as Thorin, told me of Erebor’s magnificence but I fear none of you described the true grandeur of the realm adequately,” Alaisia declared.

Morak smiled. “It is difficult to put the beauty and opulence of Erebor into words, my _nathith_. The kingdom is ever in a state of change, with new additions and renovations. Always it seems to grow wealthier.”

Alaisia felt herself blush faintly at the mention of the renovations, for she was reminded of Thorin’s kindness in extending his hand and the tingle she felt. _Foolish Dwarf-maid_ , she chided herself. _Thorin is a friend and nothing more._

In truth, Alaisia could not describe how precisely she felt about Thorin. She felt as though her feelings toward him were different than when they first met, but in what manner they differed she still could not define.

Her mother interrupted her ponderings by bringing forward a necklace. It was set with a star sapphire of the deepest blue, and had a chain with delicately carved scrollwork.

“That is beautiful!” Alaisia gasped. “When did you make this? Thank you so much!”

“I did not make this. It was a gift from the royal family. Thrain presented us with three boxes; both you and I received a necklace, while your father received a jeweled blade embossed with the family name,” Thila explained.

“We must thank them again at dinner,” Alaisia declared as she reached for the exquisite necklace to fasten it about her neck. _This is too lovely_ , Alaisia thought. _I shall scarcely have occasion to wear it._ Nonetheless, she was exceedingly grateful for the token of friendship.

~

Thrain watched the Glavrem family enter the banquet hall, pleased to see the each of the Glavrem trio wearing their gift. The idea of giving gifts had been Thorin’s, for he thought it would be generous to return the hospitality shown during their first visit to Dale. Thrain was proud of his son, but he had a different motivation for bestowing such opulent gifts.

 _The Glavrem stand in a unique position as the chief Dwarf merchant family in Dale. They must help us preserve trade in Dale and abroad, for with my father’s burgeoning madness those connections may be threatened,_ Thrain thought.

The Glavrem approached Thrain and thanked him for his generosity. Thror sat at the head of the table, seeming to be in a better temperament this eve than earlier in the day. _A relief_ , Thrain thought.

 _Trade and diplomacy are important, but_ Adad’s _health is more important. Would that I could cure him of this madness..._

Thrain glanced to his side, smiling gently as he saw Thorin and Alaisia talk and laugh with one another.

 _He seems so happy whenever he is with her; so free from worry over his grandfather. How fortunate that they have met at this time_ , Thrain mused. _I know Thorin feels something more for Alaisia than mere friendship, whether the stubborn lad admits it to himself yet or not._

He looked to his left, noting with pleasure that even Thror was smiling on this evening. Thror’s attention was fixated upon his eldest grandchild.

 _He has not yet lost himself entirely. May he recover soon from the dragon-sickness, ere it worsens_ , Thrain fervently hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil pays an ill-fated visit to Erebor in the next chapter. Thank you for reading!


	9. A Pointy-Eared Woodland Sprite and a Stubborn Mountain King Meet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin plays the harp, and Thror and Thranduil show off their A+ diplomacy skills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos! I hope that you enjoy this next chapter.

After the welcome feast, the Glavrem family and the royal family of Erebor retired to a gathering room in the royal chambers. The room was richly furnished with tapestries, heavy woolen rugs, and velvet-adorned sofas. In spite of the grandiose furnishings, the room had a cozy air lent to it by a massive, glowing fireplace.

Thrain gestured for the Glavrem clan to take a seat on a couch near the fireplace. King Thror sat down opposite the Glavrem trio along with his son and grandchildren, while the extended royal family sat to the side of the King’s immediate family. All chatted leisurely for some time before Thrain asked his guests if they would enjoy music. When Thila nodded yes, Thorin rose and retrieved a golden harp from the corner of the room, seating himself on a stool in front of the fireplace.

While humming in a low, baritone tenor Thorin began to strum the strings of the harp gently. Slowly, the Dwarf began to chant in quiet Khuzdul, and to Alaisia it seemed that the melody that filled the room spoke of the ancient grandeur and history of Erebor. Alaisia observed Thorin with rapt attention as she hearkened to the music, noting the intent focus that creased his face as he continued to strum the harp. Shadows from the flickering flames of the fire danced across Thorin’s figure, while the fire gave his skin a gentle glow.

After what seemed like an eternity, the music ceased, and Thorin glanced about the room with a soft smile. Alaisia caught Thorin’s gaze and returned his smile as she and the others applauded him.

Thorin bowed his head in slight embarrassment at the applause. “Thank you, everyone.”

All rose to bid one another good night, and Thorin approached Alaisia.

“You have remarkable talent with the harp,” Alaisia complimented him. “Thank you for playing it for all of us.”

Lowering his head politely, Thorin responded “Thank you, I find music quite soothing. Do you sing or play an instrument? Perhaps tomorrow evening you might join me.”

“Yes, I can sing, although I fear that if I attempt to play an instrument all of the cats in Erebor may begin screeching,” Alaisia admitted rather bashfully. “But I would be happy to sing in accompaniment to your harp.”

Thorin chuckled. “All have different musical talents. I would be glad to have you sing at my side while I play the harp tomorrow night. I fear I shall not see you until later in the day tomorrow, though, for Thranduil and his delegation are due in the morning. Please feel free to explore the mountain at your leisure. Good night, Alaisia.”

As Thorin bade Alaisia good night, he clasped her shoulder gently in friendship and Alaisia did the same in return.

“You need not worry – I understand that this is an important diplomatic visit. And thank you, Thorin. I hope that you will have a restful night’s sleep,” Alaisia replied.

~

Alaisia quickly wolfed down a hearty breakfast the next morning before winding her way through a series of passages to the entrance hall of Erebor. She was curious to see the Elven embassy, for only once or twice had she ever seen Elves in person in Dale, and her wait did not last long. Thranduil and his company arrived early in the day. Interestingly, the royal family was not at the gate to greet the Elvenking.

 _Perhaps they receive different diplomatic treatment because they are Elves, not fellow Dwarves,_ Alaisia pondered as she felt a familiar pang of concern regarding her own mixed ancestry.

The Elvenking had a decidedly arrogant demeanor as he glided through the gate at the head of his company. He made no conversation with the Dwarves present, only coolly offering the necessary niceties. Shortly, Thranduil and his companions approached the portion of the hall that Alaisia stood in. She expected the company to pass quickly without noticing her but, to her surprise, Thranduil motioned for his companions to halt when they came to her. Alaisia curtsied politely and hazarded a glance up at the Elvenking.

Thranduil stood as still as a statue while his eyes scrutinized Alaisia. His eyes rested on her chin and widened slightly. Then, a smirk spread across the Elvenking’s face. He spoke a few words in Elvish to his companions and haughtily turned his back on Alaisia, motioning for his companions to follow him through the hall with a slight jerk of the head.

Alaisia’s face burned as she saw her fellow Dwarves turn to stare at her. Embarrassment, then rage, came in rapid succession. _That insufferable gurnvos’comys! I do not care if he is the King of the Woodland Realm, how dare he call me a beardless mutt?!? He is_ clearly _aware of my mixed ancestry,_ Alaisia fumed. _And how dare his pointy-eared minions stand there emotionless as I am insulted thus?_

She understood Elvish well enough, although she had no desire to advertise her possession of that skill to the other Dwarves present by explaining to them the precise nature of Thranduil’s insult. Instead, she angrily turned away and went to change so that she could visit the forges to hammer away her ire.

~

Thorin watched as Thranduil strode in with an air of the utmost confidence and pride. The other Elves followed Thranduil, staring disdainfully at the throne and at the gathering of Dwarves present.

 _I care not for his arrogance, but he is a powerful ally to possess,_ Thorin thought.

 “Greetings, Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm,” Thror intoned.

Thorin and his father Thrain inclined their heads politely at Thranduil while the other Dwarves present did the same. One Dwarf walked forward with an intricately carved wooden box. The corners of Thranduil’s mouth quirked upward.

The Dwarf bearing the box opened it to reveal the glistening Gems of Lasgalen, some left unset as requested and others crafted into the most exquisite jewelry. The gems gleamed like starlight even within the deep caverns of Erebor. Almost in answer, the Arkenstone seemed to glow brighter behind Thror.

Thranduil appeared utterly transfixed by the beauty of the craftsmanship presented to him and he reached forward, as if in a trance, to lift a necklace from the box. He was stopped from doing so when the Dwarf holding the box closed it abruptly, nearly shutting the lid on the Elvenking’s hand in the process. The Elvenking recoiled in indignation.

Thorin, concerned by the turn of events, glanced toward his father who appeared to be mouthing the word _no_. He then looked to his grandfather Thror, noticing that Thranduil cast his icy glare in the same direction.

King Thror leaned forward in his throne. “This craftsmanship is some of the finest my jewel-smiths have ever produced, so I believe that it merits greater pay than the pittance you offered. Come back with at least thrice the funds and I shall consider yielding these gems to you.” Thror leaned back, fiercely staring down the Elvenking.

 _No…the dragon-sickness cannot have consumed him so…_ Thorin thought miserably.

Thranduil held his ground, but his face revealed his wrath.

“So this is what comes of our alliance, Dwarf-king?” Thranduil spat out. “You would deny me the Gems of Lasgalen, cherished by my slain wife, when I supplied you the generous payment initially agreed upon? You would demand more money to fill your coffers – not even those of your jewel-smiths? Dwarf, you desire these gems for your own. You are riven by greed.”

Thror sat on his throne with a smug expression.

Thranduil narrowed his eyes in wrath. “ _Nin gwerianneg. Pe channas!_ Soon, I deem, you shall see the fate that your avarice has wrought for your people. Beware the firestorm that shall descend upon your kin and subjects, for dragons are ever drawn to gold and greed. Take heed and prepare yourself against that day. Henceforth I declare the connection between your kingdom, such as it is, and mine void.” With a final venomous glare, Thranduil abruptly turned and left, his companions wordlessly following behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations for the Elvish phrases used in this chapter:  
> Gurnvos’comys = tree humper  
> Nin gwerianneg = you betrayed me  
> Pe channas = idiot


	10. Aftermath and Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin seeks out Alaisia after Thranduil's visit, and the kingdoms of Dale and Erebor make preparations in case Thranduil's ominous warning proves true.

Thrain ushered his fellow Dwarves, including Thorin, out of the throne room after Thranduil stormed off so that he could speak to Thror in private about the newly shattered alliance. Thorin was grateful for the dismissal; he did not feel up to the task of speaking with his increasingly mad grandfather at the moment. He needed time to reflect upon the implications of the events that just transpired before he could speak to his grandfather with any degree of civility.

 _Thranduil is not blameless either, though. Had he possessed greater patience and less haughtiness much may have gone differently,_ Thorin thought.

After some wandering, Thorin managed to locate Alaisia in the Hall of the Blacksmiths. Her figure was bent over in concentration as she hammered a blade into shape at a forge. Thorin smiled fondly as he watched her from afar.

 _She must genuinely love crafting – she seems relaxed and utterly immersed in her work_ , he mused. A small part of him wished to forestall any mention of Thranduil to avoid interrupting Alaisia’s peace. _No, that will not do; it shall be common news throughout the kingdom soon enough. Better that she hear it from me first than hear it distorted by rumor._ Releasing a huff of frustration at the circumstances, Thorin made his way over to Alaisia.

“Thorin!” Alaisia said somewhat breathlessly, startled out of her focus by Thorin’s sudden approach. “How did your meeting with that prissy, pointy-eared woodland sprite go? I did not expect it to end so soon.”

In spite of the situation, Thorin found himself moved to laughter by Alaisia’s critique of Thranduil, earning a grin from Alaisia.

“So you met Thranduil as well?” Thorin queried. _Has she already heard what befell?_

Alaisia hesitated, and anger flashed across her face. “Well…I would not exactly say that I _met_ the Elvenking formally. I was in the entrance hall and he passed by me with his companions. He looked me over harshly, and when he saw my beardless chin, he muttered what I can only assume to be an Elvish insult.”

Thorin coiled in renewed wrath toward Thranduil for his boorish behavior. _How dare the Elvenking look at her thus? What right has he to judge her?_

“Thranduil is a worthless _uslikhith_. Pay no heed to his crass demeanor, and do not doubt that although you are different from other dwarrowdams, you are beautiful, Alaisia,” Thorin whispered as he gently squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

He had not meant to say the last part of the sentence out loud, but he found the words flowing off of his tongue. Alaisia smiled bashfully in gratitude and briefly placed her hand over Thorin’s on her shoulder. She did not notice the faint blush that crept over Thorin’s cheeks.

“I care not for that Elf. His words are of no importance to me. I came to the forges as I find the work soothing to frayed nerves,” Alaisia reassured Thorin.

Thorin, grateful that Alaisia had not detected his embarrassment, nodded as he reluctantly removed his hand from her shoulder. “Unfortunately, I do have urgent news that I must impart to you regarding the Elvenking’s visit. I hate to ask this of you, but would you mind leaving the work of that blade to another smith so that we may speak somewhere more private?”

Alaisia recognized the importance of the matter and quickly summoned an unoccupied smith to continue her work. She smiled faintly and murmured her thanks as the Dwarf complimented her work thus far before following Thorin out of the Hall of the Blacksmiths. Once Thorin perceived that he and Alaisia were in little danger of being overheard, he told her all of what befell during Thranduil’s visit. Alaisia was, understandably, horrified at the behavior of both kings.

“Thorin, I have as little love for Thranduil and his kin as you, but they _were_ valuable allies. And although it pains me to admit it, I fear that there may be some truth to Thranduil’s words regarding the fire-drakes of the North. Your grandfather is only worsening, and the wealth of Erebor will only continue to grow…”

“As will the wealth of Dale,” Thorin finished rather gravely.

“We are all in danger,” Alaisia whispered. “We need all of the allies we can muster but Dale and Erebor are alone, with the exception of whatever small aid may be provided by Esgaroth. I only hope that King Thror and Lord Girion will maintain their connection.”

Thorin nodded, rubbing his beard as he thought. “My father is currently speaking to my grandfather, although I fear it will instill little sense in him. We are trying to keep the specifics of the feud hidden to most, but tales will undoubtedly spread.”

“That is to be expected. Regardless of what happens with your grandfather, we need a device that can provide effective defense against a dragon. By Mahal, I hope that the day on which we need such a weapon will never come,” Alaisia muttered apprehensively.

“Indeed, that was my thought as well. I will speak to my father about potential ideas for the fortification of Dale and of Erebor, perhaps of Esgaroth as well just to be safe. I had not realized the full extent to which my grandfather was entrenched in his madness, but now that my father and I are aware, I fear more responsibility must fall to us. We cannot, and would not, take the throne from my grandfather; we must just help him to fulfill his duties where he cannot,” Thorin whispered.

Alaisia let out a shuddering sigh, and Thorin found himself moving to embrace her gently. He felt Alaisia return his embrace, nestling her head on his shoulder, and Thorin pulled her slightly closer in response.

“All will be well, I hope. Thranduil’s words need not be a prophecy for our future. But I will not be able to visit you as often in the future. I will maintain contact with you through writing at the very least,” Thorin murmured. In truth, he was just as concerned as Alaisia. Emotions swirled violently within him, from contempt for Thranduil to concern for his grandfather and fear for the future of the kingdom.

Alaisia stirred and whispered as she drew back “Do not worry, Thorin. Let us hope that the King will regain sense sooner rather than later. And if he does not regain sense, then at least we can attempt to prepare ourselves for whatsoever the future may hold.”

~

After talking with Alaisia for a while longer, Thorin reluctantly escorted her back to the guest chambers granted to her family. There, the two Dwarves met with Thila, Morak, and Thrain. All wore grave expressions.

Thila spoke first. “Alaisia, dear, we have agreed with Thrain that, considering the circumstances, it is best that we return home to Dale now.”

 _It is a shame that my first visit to Erebor must end so soon after it began, but I expected no less given the delicate nature of current political affairs,_ Alaisia wistfully reflected.

Thrain offered a sympathetic smile to his son and to Alaisia, and Thorin gave Alaisia a small bow in farewell which she returned.

“Farewell, Alaisia, until we meet again,” Thorin murmured as his face fell. Addressing all three members of the Glavrem family, Thorin continued “Thank you for coming to our halls. Your visit was most welcome, and I am sorry that it had to be shortened so abruptly.”

 _Thorin will make an excellent King one day. Nevertheless, I wish that he did not have to bear such a heavy burden now,_ Alaisia thought sorrowfully.

~

Over the next several years, Thorin still made efforts to visit Dale as frequently as possible, although he was not able to see his friend Alaisia nearly so often as he would have liked. The Glavrem family chose not to make another visit to the Mountain, thinking it best to maintain their connection with Erebor from a distance in Dale considering the King’s increasingly fraught mental state. Alaisia missed Thorin dearly, but the two Dwarves kept a regular written correspondence.

Thankfully, King Thror managed to not sever ties with Dale and new defense measures were implemented. Upon a grand watchtower in Dale a Dwarvish windlance was installed; nearby Esgaroth was also gifted with such a weapon. Only a small store of the black arrows needed for the windlances was afforded to both Esgaroth and Dale, for the material utilized to make the black arrows was the rare and precious _galvorn_ , a metal derived from rocks that fell from the night sky. Alaisia’s family kept aside a small store of goods that could be retrieved in a hurry as a precaution in the event of an evacuation from the city. Out of a desire to avoid general panic, the Glavrem  family counseled only their close acquaintances, such as the other Dwarves in the city and their dear neighbor Haldan, to do likewise.

Near the end of a stormy spring in T.A. 2770, Alaisia set out for her customary morning walk. She was greeted, as usual, by Haldan.

“Lass, you seem rather melancholy of late. Has the weather got ye down, or is something else the matter?” Haldan gently asked.

Sighing, Alaisia replied “A bit of both, actually. This weather is far from pleasant and I miss my friend, Thorin. He has not been able to visit for the past six months, although we still write to one another quite often.”

Haldan smiled knowingly. “Is Thorin just a friend to you still, or could he be something more?”

Alaisia’s eyes widened at Haldan’s blunt question. _Could he be? My feelings are rather complicated…_

Unphased, Haldan continued. “Lass, I’ve known ye since you were a wee tot. And I have never seen you look at anyone the way you look at Thorin. You clearly feel something more than friendship for him, if even an old fool such as myself is able to see it,” Haldan somberly declared.

_The tingle I sometimes feel when Thorin touches my shoulder or hand; the warmth I feel when I see him; how I cherish and save his letters. Yes, Haldan is right._

Softly, Alaisia replied “I believe you are correct, Haldan. Though I do not know if I can call my feelings love…”

“It does not matter what you call your feelings, lass. Discover them in your own time. But know that I am happy for you, and for your Dwarf prince,” Haldan finished with a wink.

Alaisia laughed, and smiled at her neighbor. “Thank you, my dear friend. Farewell for now.”

With that, she continued on her way, eagerly contemplating Thorin’s next visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uslikhith is a Khuzdul insult that roughly translates to “runt of the litter”.
> 
> Galvorn is mentioned in The Silmarillion as an invention of Eol the Dark Elf who learned some of his skill in smithying from Dwarves.
> 
> The real action begins in the next chapter when a certain Dragon decides to visit...


	11. Firestorm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smaug pays Dale and Erebor a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos thus far! You give me the motivation and confidence to keep posting more chapters. I hope that you enjoy this next one.

On a blustery and frigid November morn in T.A. 2770, Alaisia and her parents were outside working industriously at their forge. Dustings of snow glinted in the morning sunlight across the city and its surrounding environ, hinting at the eminent change of season from autumn to winter. The Dwarves of Dale had held their annual Durin’s Day celebration a mere few weeks ago. Thorin was not able to attend the festivities in Dale but he did visit Alaisia shortly before. Heeding Haldan’s advice, Alaisia did not concern herself too much with the precise nature of her feelings regarding Thorin; rather, she contented herself with the warmth and joy his company afforded whenever he was able to visit, and cherished the friendship they shared.

At around midday, just as the Glavrem family was heading inside for a well-earned luncheon, the air suddenly crackled without warning. A hot, dry wind whistled through the plaza. Alaisia paused, a look of concern spreading across her face. Thila and Morak exchanged a glance with one another, and then looked at Alaisia, dread overtaking their expressions.

Shuddering uncharacteristically with fear, Morak whispered “Thranduil was right. A fire-drake comes. Hurry, we must retrieve our emergency store and warn the others!”

Alaisia, Thila, and Morak ran inside their home, hurriedly grabbing the necessities and weapons they set aside.

_A wise foresight on our part_ , Alaisia thought grimly. She was following her parents outside, passing a hand over the door frame in a caress of farewell, when she heard an unearthly roar and an mighty crashing noise. The Dragon had come.

It announced itself as Smaug, Chiefest of Calamities.

The fire-drake from the north had wings that nearly blotted out the light of the Sun as it breathed torrents of flame across the grand city of Dale. Wailing and screams of terror flooded the city as the dragon rampaged, whipping up firestorms with its massive wings and destroying towers with lashes from its tail.

The Glavrem trio stood in front of their home for a moment, horrified by the emerging catastrophe. Tears welled in Alaisia’s eyes and in her parents’ eyes.

Thila stirred. “Come, we must gather as many as we can and leave the city at once. We have no power against the wyrm. May Girion’s aim be true.”

_The black arrows, the Dwarvish windlance! Yes of course; perhaps the Dragon’s advance can be stayed,_ Alaisia fervently hoped.

Alaisia and her parents started toward Haldan’s house but halted when the fire-drake passed overhead. Haldan emerged, face ashen with fright, into the doorway of his home.

“Haldan, run!” Alaisia shrieked. But it was too late, for Smaug’s fiery breath set Haldan’s house ablaze, crumpling the wooden frame to ashes. Alaisia turned her head in grief. Haldan would not escape, for the heat of dragon fire was impenetrable.

Morak and Thila grimaced in sorrow at the loss of their dear friend, but when Smaug flew away to ravage another portion of the city they grabbed their daughter’s hands and ran.

_So much death. What can the denizens of Dale do against such reckless hate?_ Alaisia thought with despair. _Girion is our only hope._

Sprinting, the Glavrem trio made their way through the winding streets of Dale and gathered any human and Dwarven survivors they could find. Some of the paths were clear, but many were blocked with the wreckage of once-grand towers and homes. The city’s numerous orchards and parks only served as fuel for Smaug’s flames so that smoke hung thick in the air. Alaisia wistfully reminisced about the time she and Thorin visited her favorite park, its landscape brimming with roses of the sweetest scent.

_Thorin_ , Alaisia thought desperately as panic seized her. _He and his kin in Erebor are in danger as much as we. Smaug came not to claim Dale; Dale is merely sport for him. The Dragon is here for the riches of the Mountain._

The Glavrem family and their fellow survivors gasped for air as the smoke and exertion of running made it difficult to breath. At last their band of survivors fought their way to the gates of the city. Alaisia noticed that they were not the only group of survivors, for others still streamed to the gates. _Not all is lost_ , her mind whispered. _And yet the Dragon is not slain_.

All survivors fled to the plains just south of the city. Morak noticed Girion’s kin standing amid a group of singed and ash-covered refugees.

“My lady Swanhilde, is your husband still in the city?” Morak questioned.

Swanhilde, Girion’s wife, grimly nodded her head in a silent answer.

Morak, Thila, and Alaisia all looked to Dale. Upon the highest tower the Dwarvish windlance was set. They, and others, watched with trepidation as a smooth black projectile was launched toward Smaug. It appeared to have hit the beast, but Smaug roared and flew forward into the tower, sending it crumbling to the ground. Swanhilde’s scream of grief rang out on the desolate plain. Her son clung to her in fear with one hand; the other hand held a spare black arrow given to him by his father.

“Even the _galvorn_ metal is no match for the blasted dragon. Is all lost?” Alaisia whispered to her mother.

“I know not, my child,” Thila replied sorrowfully.

The refugees of Dale watched in horror as Smaug continued to raze the city. Dale, once proud and filled with life, was now no more than a burned and crumbling shell of its former self. The city of orchards did not continue to hold Smaug’s interest, however. The Dragon had a loftier goal in mind. It turned swiftly and flew toward the Kingdom of Erebor.

“No,” Alaisia found herself whispering. “May Mahal protect Thorin and his kin.” Thila and Morak nodded fervently and hugged Alaisia close to them.

“Morak,” an elderly Dwarven merchant named Uffe began, “where are we to go now?”

Morak glanced at Thila and Alaisia. “There is still hope that the Dragon will be slain, although it is an increasingly small hope.” Looking over to the Gates of Erebor in the distance, Morak sighed. “Regardless of the outcome, I am certain that there will be refugees from the Mountain. I believe that we should move further away from Dale but linger nearby to join the refugees from Erebor, for they will also flee in this direction.”

Uffe nodded. “Aye, that sounds like wise counsel to me. But I fear there is no hope for the Kingdom now.”

~

Smaug’s advance came swift and sure. Even the mighty arsenal and army of Erebor were no match for the Dragon. Thorin, along with the other surviving Dwarves, fled the mountain. He was dragging his grandfather, who wailed not about the loss of the city, or of so many of his subjects, but about the loss of the Arkenstone. Thrain approached with Dis and Frerin on either side.

Thorin exhaled with relief. “ _Adad_ , _namad, nadad_ , I am relieved to see you all unharmed!”

Thrain nodded, and moved to help his son with Thror. “And we are glad to see the two of you unharmed, _inùdoy_.”

Erebor’s exiles ran down the road leading away from the ruined gate to the kingdom.

_Our kingdom…our home. Lost to the dragon fire, just as Dale,_ Thorin thought. He had watched hopelessly from the ramparts alongside Balin as Smaug ravaged the city of Dale, mercilessly smiting the city with fire, wind, and claw.

_Alaisia._ Her name rose into Thorin’s mind again. _Mahal, please let her be safe. I cannot bear to lose her,_ Thorin thought desperately. He glanced to the side, and stopped at the sight before him. An entire army of Elves, armor gleaming in spite of the darkened sky, stood arrayed before their King, Thranduil.

_He is not faithless. In spite of all that passed between he and Thror, he is still willing to help us_ , Thorin thought with wonder.

“Thranduil! Help us!” Thorin shouted as loudly as possible, his voice ragged from the shock and smoke of the day.

Thranduil sat astride his elk, looking upon the fleeing Dwarves emotionlessly. He inclined his head, as if in thought, and then dipped his head as he turned and led his army away.

_No…that pompous Elf cannot march his entire army to our burning kingdom and depart! It is unthinkable!_

“Help us! We have no one else to turn to!” Thorin shouted in vain, the disgust of showing such weakness rising like bile in his chest. But the Elvenking continued marching away without so much as a backward glance.

_Worthless, insufferable creature. Imrid amrad ursul,_ Thorin thought furiously.

Thrain put a calming hand on his son’s shoulder. “We must continue on. Erebor is lost.”

~

Due to the presence of injured Dwarves, and the shock of losing their home, the exiles trudged slowly across the plains. Dusk yielded to a faintly moonlit night, while a frigid breeze returned to the air to replace the hot, dry wind that had come with Smaug’s firestorm.

_I should like to see how those blasted Elves’ keen vision serves them at night. At least we Dwarves are used to seeing in the dark,_ Thorin grumpily thought.

His heart skipped a beat as he sighted another group of Dwarves in the darkness.

Thrain also saw the refugees and cried out. “Some have survived from Dale as well!”

_Do I dare hope that Alaisia and her family live?_ Thorin thought.

Thorin impatiently marched ahead, eager to speak with the other Dwarves and to see if Alaisia was among them. At last, he perceived a familiar face, although it was touched with soot and tears.

“Alaisia! Thorin shouted, as he sprinted to her and embraced her tightly.

“Thorin, thank Mahal that you are safe! And I am happy to see that your family made it out as well. I feared the worst...my parents and I were able to gather many of the Dwarves of the city ere its final ruin, but many good people perished,” Alaisia added as she looked over Thorin’s shoulder.

“I am glad that you and your family are alive, Alaisia,” Thorin whispered.

A small sob escaped Alaisia and Thorin found himself hugging her more closely.

After Alaisia’s tears slowed, Thorin released Alaisia and brushed a lingering tear off her cheek, unconcerned as to whether that might be too bold. He allowed his hand to rest there, cupping her cheek in a comforting gesture.

In spite of the death and catastrophe of the day, and the uncertainties ahead in a life of exile, Thorin briefly felt content as he gazed at Alaisia – somehow living, breathing, and uninjured.

He let the warmth of reassurance flood through him, and gave Alaisia a small smile which she returned. Thorin felt his heart leap at seeing her smile again, however tainted with sorrow it might be. He brushed his thumb tenderly over her cheek one final time before reluctantly withdrawing his hand. Thorin’s heart ached at the loss of contact, and as he looked at Alaisia, he realized that he looked upon the dwarrowdam that he loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations:  
> Imrid amrad ursul = [may he] die a death of flames.  
> Adad = father  
> Namad = sister  
> Nadad = brother
> 
> Alaisia’s line “So much death. What can the denizens of Dale do against such reckless hate?” is adapted from King Theoden’s line “So much death. What can man do against such reckless hate?” in The Two Towers.


	12. Exile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Thrain formally take over leadership of their people as Thror remains ensnared by the dragon-sickness.

_He is alive. Thorin survived the firestorm, just as we_ , Alaisia thought with relief as she returned Thorin’s smile. She stifled a sigh of disappointment as Thorin withdrew his hand from where it has rested on her cheek moments ago. Unwelcome thoughts returned to her mind with the loss of Thorin’s touch. _So many did not survive, Dwarf and Man alike._ Images of Haldan’s frightened face, and of the Dragon’s fiery breath, flashed through her mind and caused her to shudder. Thorin noticed and quickly reached for her hand. Alaisia gratefully accepted Thorin’s hand and held it tightly as she turned in the direction she heard her mother speaking.

“My lord Thrain, I am relieved to see that you and you kin escaped,” Thila greeted. “We were able to gather most of the Dwarves of Dale while evacuating the city. The Men of the city were not as fortunate. While quite a few escaped, many did not, including our neighbor and dear friend Haldan” Thila finished with a downcast gaze.

Alaisia noticed Thorin’s eyes widen with sorrow and pity as she looked back to him, and she gave him a grateful nod. Thorin had met Haldan a few times and knew that Haldan was a close friend of the Glavrem family.

Morak continued. “Lord Girion remained behind but ordered his family to leave. We stood with his wife, the Lady Swanhilde, and watched as he fired his last _galvorn_ arrow. It seemed to strike the Dragon, but we were far away. Smaug continued his rampage, destroying the very tower Girion stood on.”

Thrain shook his head in sorrow. “He gave it a valiant effort. Girion’s admirable sacrifice stalled the beast, and gave us some time to ready our defenses. But ‘twas not enough in the end,” Thrain muttered, the twinkle of joy often present in his eyes extinguished.

Thorin sighed, and shook his head slightly with a forlorn glance toward the ruins of Dale and Erebor.

“What of King Thror?” Morak whispered quietly, casting a nervous glance in the direction of the King who stood gazing into the distance as one who was lost.

“Thror is incapacitated at the moment. The madness of the dragon-sickness lays heavily upon him, and my father and I fear that Smaug’s attack served to strengthen the dragon-sickness rather than break it,” Thorin responded bitterly. “For the time being, my father and I will take over leadership of what remains of our people.”

Thrain gave his son an approving nod, his eyes widening a fraction at how Alaisia and Thorin were holding hands, before turning to face the Glavrem family. “My son and I are grateful for your assistance in helping the Dwarves of Dale escape the dragon fire. I would be honored if you would join our council in…exile,” the word “exile” slipping reluctantly from Thrain’s tongue.

Morak stood proudly, and nodded. “We are honored by your request and accept it.”

Alaisia looked about them, noting the number of injured Dwarves and the exhaustion of the uninjured. “We should rest and move no further tonight, for the injured must be properly tended to. However, in the morning I believe we should make for Esgaroth. I know that Lady Swanhilde was leading the human survivors of Dale there; we may find welcome in Lake-town as well.”

Thrain replied, “Aye, I was thinking much the same myself. We have few supplies and need shelter during the coming winter. After we survive that, we can consider a more permanent refuge.”

Alaisia turned to face Thorin again. His face was dark and bitter, staring into the distance toward Erebor. Fires still burned on its once lushly forested slopes, giving the mountain an eerie reddish silhouette against the evening sky. _I know that he wishes to return to Erebor, to reclaim it from the Dragon,_ Alaisia thought _. Such a feat will not be possible for a long while._ She stepped closer to him and squeezed his hand. He looked at her and nodded in gratitude before releasing her hand to help his father make camp for the evening.

~

Around mid-morning the next day the band of exiles scraped together their meager supplies and set off on a march toward Esgaroth, clinging to the hope that they might find welcome in the unscathed village.

Thrain strode at the front of the group with Thorin next to him. Thror stood aloof to the side, enveloped in a cloud of greed and madness. As the Dwarves approached the bridge to the city, they found that their journey was not unmarked, for a group of Men with an arrogant air stepped forward to speak to them.

“What business have you with the people of Esgaroth, Dwarves?” one sallow-faced Man queried.

_Not a promising greeting,_ Thorin thought as he restrained a grimace.

“I am Thrain, son of King Thror of the Dwarves of Erebor. As you know, our home was laid to ruin by the dragon Smaug. We come to your fair city seeking refuge during the coming winter,” Thrain nobly replied.

Another, taller, Man stepped forward. “We know well of the dragon Smaug. The refugees of Dale arrived here earlier, and we are tending to them as best we can. However, we cannot, and will not, stretch our winter supplies to accommodate _Dwarves_. After all, your illustrious leader Thror and his lust for gold created this plight – now you must suffer the consequences. We will not risk stoking the ire of the Dragon.”

The Men turned and left without another word. Thrain said nothing, for he knew there was no hope in altering their resolute minds.

_How dare they deny us assistance in our time of need? The wealth they possess is only theirs due to the trade facilitated by Erebor_ , Thorin thought wrathfully as he glowered after the humans.

“What shall we do now?” Morak asked Thrain and Thorin.

Thorin merely shook his head and muttered a Khuzdul expletive in the direction of the Men.

“Easy, lad, those Men were uncivil to us but their words are not without foundation,” Thrain said to his son.

Thorin grumbled a dissatisfied response and turned away from Esgaroth.

Fundin, father of Balin and Dwalin, approached Thrain. “I believe that our best course now is to make for Dunland. Some Dwarves still dwell there, and it is far from the northern mountains from whence Smaug likely came.”

Something dawned on Thrain, and he stroked his beard in thought for a moment. “Aye, I agree with you. Dunland shall be safe enough for our purposes. It also provides a strategic position…” Thrain began.

“A strategic position for what?” Dwalin gruffly asked.

“For now, we must recover and survive the winter. But in future years as our strength returns, I believe that we should march on the Orc strongholds of the Misty Mountains. In doing so, we shall prove that Durin’s line is not defeated, and we might reclaim the great halls of Khazad-dum,” Thrain boldly declared. “That would also provide a base from which to lead an assault upon the dragon Smaug when the time comes to reclaim our homeland.”

Hums of approval sounded from the other Dwarves. All shared a sense of injured pride at not being able to save Erebor from ruin or at having to flee Dale. Thorin looked to Alaisia, whose eyes lit up at the mention of Khazad-dum. A small smile crept over her face as excited chatter of battles and glory broke out among the Dwarves nearest Thrain.

“That’s it, then. The Men of Esgaroth will deny us aid, just as Thranduil did. But we are not defeated! We are Longbeards, members of Durin’s Folk! In the past we have been disparaged, beaten down – but ever we rise again, stronger than before. We shall show strength and valor in exile, and our fortitude will render us worthy children of Durin. Our road now leads to Dunland, where some Dwarves yet dwell. The journey will not be easy, but we are Longbeards, steadfast and proud. Follow me!” Thrain shouted to his people.


	13. Through the Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the exiles begin their long journey to Dunland, and Thorin and Alaisia confide in one another about the emotional toll the Dragon's attack exacted on them.

The exiled Dwarves ventured south of Esgaroth, making their way to the borders of the Greenwood and skirting the edge of the river that wound alongside the forest. Thrain and Thorin still led their people while Fundin guided Thror. While progress was still hindered by the wounded, Thrain’s rallying speech did much to rouse the energy of the grim Longbeards. Three leagues north and east of the border of the forest, the Dwarves made camp.

“ _Adad_ , we are in need of wood to construct biers for the wounded and wagons to carry supplies so that we may travel faster. It is risky, for we may incur the wrath of the thrice-accursed Elves, but I believe we should fell some trees at the eastern border of the forest,” Thorin said.

Thrain scratched his beard thoughtfully. “Well lad, you are certainly correct about the ire of Thranduil. But we do require wood,” Thrain sighed. “I reckon your idea is the best option we have. You’ll stay here to lead in my stead, but I will gather a group of strong and swift Dwarves to bring back lumber. I shall set out ere break of day.”

Thorin considered protesting, for he did not wish to be parted from his father. He chose not to when he gazed across the camp to his grandfather pacing to and fro and muttering nonsensically in Khuzdul. _Only my father and I are fit to rule_ , Thorin reminded himself. _We should have taken over rule of the kingdom long ago_. _Perhaps then we could have avoided this situation..._

“Very well, I shall ensure that the camp is well guarded. In the morning, I will ask some of the Dwarves who were able to bring a bow to seek game, for our food supply is scarce. We might consider making bows and spears from some of the lumber as well.”

Thrain clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder. “That would be wise. We are ill-armed, and many of our best soldiers were felled in the wyrm’s assault on the main gate. I am proud of you, _inùdoy_. Take care of your siblings and the others.”

~

Once the camp was established, Alaisia sat in quiet conversation with her parents. They paused as young Dis came over.

“Alaisia?” Dis timidly asked. “My _nadad_ said that when I am old enough you could teach me how to wield a blade as well as you. Am I old enough now? It seems so frightening out here,” Dis whispered with a serious and concerned gaze about the shadowy plains.

Alaisia exchanged a sorrowful glance with her parents. _Poor Dwarfling, to lose her home to dragon fire at the young age of thirteen. She must be able to defend herself in the wild. All of us must be able to defend ourselves…_

Alaisia rose and walked over to Dis, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I know that you are scared, Dis, and I hope that we will be safe here. I will speak to your brother, but I believe that now may be a good time to start your instruction in the arts of combat. My parents began teaching me how to fight when I was around your age.”

Dis’ face lit up with glee. “Thank you, Alaisia!”

Alaisia looked up to see Thorin standing a few feet away with Frerin at his side.

“Alaisia is right, _namad_. While we still have able warriors among us, it is always better to be able to defend oneself. It is not always possible to rely on others,” Thorin told his sister, giving her a gentle hug.

A hint of bitterness had invaded Thorin’s voice as he spoke of not being able to rely on others.   _He is thinking about his grandfather_ , Alaisia realized. _Thror was unable to defend Erebor, and his greed doomed us to the very fate that Thranduil warned us of_.

~

Alaisia found that sleep evaded her, for every time she closed her eyes memories of dragon fire and acrid smoke surged to the forefront of her mind. Feeling rather hopeless, she wandered to the northern edge of the camp to at least make herself useful by standing guard for the evening. She seated herself on a rock, facing away from the forest that the selfish Elvenking dwelled in, and gazed at the desolate landscape in front of her. Footsteps soon approached.

“May I join you?” Thorin asked softly.

“Yes. You cannot sleep either?” Alaisia replied as Thorin sat down next to her.

“Sleep has not been fond of me since we fled Erebor,” Thorin muttered.

Alaisia hesitated, then shifted closer to Thorin and slipped an arm around him. He leaned in to her touch and placed an arm around her back, pulling her closer.

“The same has been true for me since I escaped from Dale,” Alaisia murmured.

Thorin shook his head and gazed up at the stars. “Both of our homes destroyed in the span of a day, by a single creature,” Thorin bitterly recounted. “We took some measures to prepare – the windlances! Yet we were still unable to do anything except watch our homes burn,” he spat out.

Alaisia could do nothing but nod in sad agreement.

Her friend continued. “I watched from the balcony above the front gate as Smaug razed Dale. I thought that you, and everyone else in that city, would surely perish.”

“Some of us managed to survive. We Dwarves were fortunate. Casualties were much higher among the Men of Dale,” Alaisia noted.

“I am glad that you are alive, Alaisia. I do not like to consider the fact that I came so close to losing you,” Thorin hoarsely whispered.

Alaisia smiled wanly at Thorin. “I feared the same for you, for the Mountain is harder to escape than Dale. I was relieved when you and your family appeared, leading a band of survivors.”

The pair sat in silence for some time before Alaisia continued. “Thorin, what was it like for you? How did you escape?” she asked.

Thorin paused before answering, and his shoulders gave an involuntary shudder. _I can sympathize with that feeling,_ Alaisia thought as she reached for Thorin’s hand to comfort him. Thorin was surprised at first, but then grasped Alaisia’s hand. He turned to face her.

“Smaug destroyed the front gate. I was there when it happened…my father was gathering Dwarves from deeper in Erebor, including my siblings, while I stood at the front gate at the head of our army. We were armed with naught but swords and shields.” Thorin took a deep breath. “When the beast entered the entrance hall, his feet crushed almost all others around me. I was fortunate, for the dragon’s claws struck the ground on either side of me.”

Alaisia cringed, and held Thorin’s hand tighter.

“I realized then that we had no hope of withstanding Smaug’s assault, and decided to find my grandfather as I knew he would still be lingering in the throne room amidst his precious _gold_ ,” Thorin bitterly recounted. “He was unwilling to leave, and dropped the Arkenstone as I pulled him from the room. Even though Smaug had entered the throne room, Thror desired to go back to retrieve the Arkenstone, so I had to drag him to safety.”

“I am sorry, Thorin,” Alaisia whispered.

Thorin turned to face Alaisia, eyes surprisingly gentle in spite of the circumstance. He released her hand and briefly caressed her cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for. You faced the dragon fire, just as I. We survived, as did those with us. Now we must turn to the future – whatever it may hold.”

“Through the shadows we shall come to light,” Alaisia murmured.


	14. Braving the Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves attempt to cross a frozen river on their journey south, and a certain dwarrowdam proves that she can be as stubborn as Thorin.

Within a few days, Thrain and his companions returned with a slew of lumber in tow. All able craftspeople among the Dwarves set to work constructing biers, wagons, and bows. Once all was prepared, the exiles resumed their journey southward, remaining ever watchful for danger. Snow began to fall heavily. In the mornings the pale sun glinted harshly against the icy glaze that coated the plains. Several Dwarves fell ill, but the frost suffocated wild healing herbs. The only shelter in sight existed in the forest, but all were too proud to enter it. Thorin spent much of his time conversing with Alaisia, although he found himself discussing mostly practical matters of daily survival with her.

_So different from our old conversations_ , Thorin thought wistfully. _How our lives might be different were we still home_...

He knew that he loved Alaisia, but he did not dare to hope that she might reciprocate his affection. Nor did he want to tarnish their friendship with an unrequited confession. Thus, Thorin contented himself with friendship, and found that Alaisia’s companionship brought comfort and good counsel.

After several days of journeying, the band of Dwarves came to a bend in the Celduin, the River Running in the Common Tongue. Thorin grimaced at the sight of the icy mass, for the river was frozen solid. No narrower crossing or bridge existed in either direction.

“ _Adad_ …” Thorin began nervously.

“We shall have to brave the ice.” Thrain declared. “There is no other way, and we cannot remain here.”

Thorin nodded. “Very well. We shall send the lightest Dwarves across first. Biers with the wounded should go next.”

“And the wagons last,” Thrain finished, glancing uneasily at the frozen river.

The Dwarves scattered across the riverside, crossing over a broad area so as to avoid concentrating their weight in one region. Thorin and Thrain set out across the ice first to ensure that it was safe. Both Dwarves stumbled and fell on the slippery surface, much to their chagrin, but the ice was solid enough to support their weight and others soon followed after them. Thorin breathed a sigh of relief as he watched the last group of Dwarves carrying a wounded companion cross. _Now only the Dwarves pushing the wagons have to cross_ , Thorin thought.

The first wagon crossed without incident, so the Dwarves on the other side of the bank began to push another two wagons after it. They were about a third of the way across the river when a large cracking noise pierced the chill winter air. The Dwarves paused, looks of panic clear on their faces.

Thorin glanced to his father. “RUN!” Thrain commanded, his voice laced with fear.

The Dwarves refused to leave the wagons of supplies, however, and attempted to push the wagons across as quickly as possible. Gasps of fear and horror resounded as the ice broke open and the Dwarves fell in.

Those who possessed some rope tossed it to the flailing Dwarves in the icy water, but there was not enough rope to extend to all who fell in. Thorin ran toward the bank to rescue the others, barely noticing the fact that Alaisia followed. Dwalin joined the two, and together they managed to pull the other Dwarves out of the river. Some supplies floated in the water but most sank to the riverbed.

Thorin and Dwalin stepped back from the riverbank, believing all Dwarves had been rescued. Alaisia nearly turned to follow when she heard the muffled cry for help from a struggling Dwarf.

“Alaisia…” Thorin began, intending to warn her against entering the water or to go into the water himself. But Alaisia was already several feet out into the river, swimming toward the drowning dwarrow. She pulled him to safety, and dragged herself back up onto the riverbank, shivering violently.

“That was brave, but foolish of you,” Thorin reprimanded as he removed his fur cloak and tossed it to Alaisia. Thila and Morak looked horrified and rushed over to ensure that their daughter was safe.

“I’m fine, look after him,” Alaisia stubbornly grumbled as she gestured at the shivering and frightened dwarrow. She gave Thorin a grateful nod and smile as she gestured at the cloak. “Thank you, my friend. I will return this soon.”

Instead of returning the smile, Thorin had a look of exasperation on his face. “Thank me by not doing something like that again,” he said curtly. He barely registered Alaisia’s huff of indignation as he strode off to start a fire.

_~_

Over the next several hours, the group of Dwarves halted their journey so as to construct makeshift rafts for the Dwarves still left stranded on the opposite riverbank. As the remaining Dwarves and supplies were taken across on a raft, Alaisia sat near the fire to warm herself. She had stepped away briefly to change into spare clothes that she stowed in her family’s emergency gear. Thila and Morak stood a small distance away, conversing with Fundin and Groin.

Thorin eased his way into the circle of Dwarves about the fire so as to sit next to Alaisia. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Alaisia. “You would have done the same, Thorin. We have been friends for many seasons now; I will not be treated like I am a mere Dwarfling.” She removed the cloak and thrust it at Thorin, trembling slightly at the loss of its warmth.

Thorin sighed. _I know I was rather gruff, perhaps unfairly so. But I love her, and she could have gotten herself killed_. _Surely she must understand that what she did was dangerous..._

Deciding that arguing would get him nowhere, and that he was far too weary to argue even if it _would_ be productive, Thorin wordlessly took the cloak and wrapped it around Alaisia again. Instead of struggling, she turned to face him.

“Forgive me, Alaisia. I spoke only out of concern for your safety. And you are right – I would have done the same. In fact, I nearly did so, but I was beaten to the task by certain obstinate dwarrowdam,” Thorin acknowledged.

A smile grudgingly spread over Alaisia’s face. “You are right that what I did was risky. I accept your apology, and thank you for letting me borrow your cloak. Are you warm enough?”

Thorin nodded. “Here next to the fire I am.” _And next to you,_ his inner thought offered.

Alaisia seemed concerned still, and insisted that Thorin at least share the cloak. The pair sat together while the band of Dwarves regrouped and those who fell into the water thawed.

Thorin glanced to Alaisia at his side, her cheeks rosy and glowing from the fire. Her eyelids began to droop, and she drifted off to sleep leaning against Thorin’s shoulder. The sight sent a warm tingle through Thorin, and amid the desolate winter landscape, he felt a small amount of hope for the future swell within him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave comments, suggestions for scenes you'd like to see, and reviews in the comments section at the bottom. This is a slow burn romance, but I promise that it is worth the wait! I just felt that it was more realistic for Thorin and Alaisia to develop a strong friendship first.


	15. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a relatively short chapter, so I plan to update again tomorrow. Thank you for reading!

Thorin carried Alaisia over to her parents not long after she drifted off to sleep against him, letting her keep his cloak for the evening. As much as he wished to keep her at his side, he knew that it would raise eyebrows among his people to show such familiarity with Alaisia. He could ill afford the drama of rumors swirling about the nature of his relationship to the dwarrowdam. Keeping his people alive, and finding a path to a new home, was proving difficult enough.

After gently laying Alaisia down on her bedroll, Thorin sighed and turned back toward the fire they had been sitting near. The blaze of the fire provided a reassuring warmth as Thorin settled down on the ground next to it, but he missed the feeling of Alaisia at his side. Sleep evaded him. He found his mind straying to happier times under the Mountain, when his future as crown prince had been certain, when life had been more comfortable, and when markedly fewer obstacles existed to confessing his love to Alaisia.

_Of course, I was too foolish to realize my love then. Now, I have no crown to offer her, no means to craft a ring, no home to provide even if I thought my feelings had a chance of being returned_ , Thorin bitterly mused. _Dare I even hope that my feelings_ are _returned?_ The memory of Alaisia nestled against his shoulder tempted him to hope, but perhaps Alaisia had simply been weary and seeking a comfortable place to rest her head. There was also the matter of her position. While Thorin would have been free to marry any respectable dwarrowdam prior to their exile, he feared that his father (or grandfather, if ever he recovered from the dragon-sickness) might demand a marriage to a noble Dwarf-maid of great wealth due to their changed circumstances.

Thorin growled in frustration as he shifted to move his back off of a gnarled root sticking out of the ground. Memories of his old bed, soft and warm with abundant furs and blankets, came back to taunt him. Exhaustion eventually overtook Thorin, though his dreams tormented him with images of what might have been had the Dragon not come.

~

Much to her discontent, Alaisia found herself being shaken awake before the sun arose, Thorin no longer at her side.

“Alaisia. Alaisia, wake up now,” Thila whispered.

“Mmm-urgh?” Alaisia mumbled in response.

Thila chuckled. “It is nearly dawn. We must leave soon. Your father is off gathering some supplies.”

Alaisia shifted, and then sat up straight and looked around for Thorin. He stood by the fire with his younger brother and sister. It dawned on her that she was still enveloped in the warmth of Thorin’s cloak. _Poor Thorin must be freezing…I will return his cloak to him at once._

Alaisia rushed over to Thorin. “Thorin, I am so sorry!”

“Why?” Thorin replied with a quizzical look on his face.

“I kept your cloak throughout the night. You must have been freezing,” Alaisia responded worriedly.

He laughed. “Worry not; I slept next to the fire so I was warm enough. After you fell asleep in it, I did not have the heart to take it from you. You seemed so peaceful.”

Alaisia sighed in relief. “Thank you, Thorin. You can take your cloak back – mine should be fully dry by now,” she said with a sheepish grin. “I’ll try to not go diving into another frozen river.”

As Thorin gathered the cloak and re-fastened it around himself, Alaisia stood and stretched. _It was very thoughtful of Thorin to lend me his cloak. I am fortunate to call him my friend_ , Alaisia thought. She also noted that Thorin’s musky pine-and-sage smell clung to her skin from the cloak, and found that comforting.

“Forgive me, Alaisia,” Thorin murmured apologetically. “I must go speak to my father about our plans for the day’s journey. Let us hope that we can make our way south to warmer lands soon.” He hesitated, then wrapped his arms around Alaisia to hug her before he departed, smiling softly as he turned to leave.

Alaisia found herself burrowing into Thorin’s warmth as she returned his hug and released him reluctantly. Her heart fluttered as she saw Thorin’s smile and felt his hand brush over her arm in farewell. _All of us smile too little these days – we must take care to remember to be grateful for all that we still have. Our family, our friends…_

“Good morning Alaisia! I am glad to see that you are well-rested. We have a long journey ahead of us today,” Morak greeted his daughter.

“Aye,” Thila added, “we must make up for time we lost traversing that accursed river yesterday. The sooner we make it to Dunland, the better. Winter clearly has no intent to be kind this year.”

“May Aulë watch over our journey,” Alaisia whispered quietly so that only her parents could hear. It would not behoove the Glavrem family to be overhead speaking Mahal’s name in the Elven tongue.

_Now, more than ever, our family ancestry must remain a secret. Contempt for the Elves has been forged anew after Thranduil’s decision to forsake us_.

~

Many of their already humble supplies were lost to the depths of the river when the ice broke, forcing the exiles to pause more frequently to glean what food they could along the frigid road southward. There was not enough food for all to be wholly sated, but the Dwarves forged on through the rugged terrain nonetheless. Alaisia and her family continued to march near the head of the group close to Thorin and Thrain.

In addition to conversing with Thorin, Alaisia found herself becoming fast friends with Balin and Dwalin. Dwalin’s roguish sense of humor and fiery spirit struck a chord with Alaisia’s own stubbornness, and she frequently sought Balin’s company to expand her knowledge on the history of Middle-earth and its peoples for he was a great scholar.

Gradually, the snow relented as the Dwarves trudged further south. There came a day when no snow fell, but ice patches dotted the landscape.

“Balin,” Alaisia asked, “what is this place?”

“We are in a place traditionally called the Brown Lands owing to the vast expanse of brown, dusty flatlands. Further to the south and east the Brown Lands abut the Dagorlad.”

“Creative name,” Alaisia snorted sarcastically. Dust and mud surrounded the exiles, and though the snow did not fall so heavily there, neither birds nor other living creatures appeared. They needed to pass through quickly as food was even more scarce in the Brown Lands.

“Now, lass you remember reading about Dagorlad I assume?” Balin queried.

“Yes – it was there that the War of the Last Alliance occurred. Men, Elves, and some of our kindred marched against the forces of Sauron,” Alaisia said.

“Aye, that is about the sum of it. I despise Thranduil as much as the next Dwarf, but the Elves are not all aloof and self-absorbed. Some care deeply for the fate of Middle-earth and its peoples, and we are more reasonable people if we remember that,” Balin finished with a wink.

Alaisia hummed her assent to Balin’s words as she turned her gaze southeast.

_Mordor…Dagorlad. Celebrimbor perished in torture there._ Long before that, Nalonis, Celebrimbor’s Dwarven love and her ancestor, had succumbed to mortality. Alaisia sighed and shook her head. _And the Orcs were not content with murdering Celebrimbor – they had to bear his body out of the depths of Mordor as a banner of their despicable cause._

Alaisia felt bile rise in her throat at the thought of the Orcs. Thila noticed, giving her a knowing and sympathetic look. Celebrimbor had already been avenged by the victory of Elves, Men, and the few Dwarves that aided them in the War of the Last Alliance. Moria, the ancient home of Nalonis and the rest of Alaisia’s ancestors, still remained infested with Orcs. The prospect of reclaiming Moria from the Orcs someday as Thrain suggested provided Alaisia with some measure of satisfaction – a way to honor her family’s past, and a chance to take a home _back_ rather than having their home seized from them.

Her mind drifted back to Balin’s concluding words about Elves. _Maybe a day will come when Dwarves and Elves no longer despise or thwart one another; a day when I no longer have to hide my ancestry in fear. Perhaps one day we can work together once more to fight a common foe._


	16. The Horse-lords

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Dwarves of Erebor arrive in Rohan.

Alaisia stayed close to Thorin’s side as the Dwarves marched onward to their new home. One morning, Thorin seemed deep in thought, scratching at what was left of his beard which he had shaved to honor those who fell in Smaug’s attack. He turned to speak to Alaisia, voicing what had been on his mind.

“Alaisia, forgive me if this seems abrupt or impertinent, but you never did tell me more about your ancestry. I must admit that I am still curious, and we now find ourselves with ample time to talk. You said that your family’s past has much to do with why the women in your line lack beards?”

_I did not expect Thorin to resume pursuit of that question,_ Alaisia thought with mild trepidation. _Now, of all times, is quite possibly the_ worst _time to tell Thorin that I possess some Elven blood_. _Balin might not frown upon the truth so much, based on his words back in the Brown Lands, but the hatred for the Elves that Thorin carries in his heart is universal._ It was hard to blame him for his attitude – after all, the only experience Thorin had with Elves was with Thranduil and his folk, and they abandoned the Dwarves without much thought in their time of need.

Dissembling her anxiety at Thorin’s question, Alaisia quickly regained her composure. “Thorin, I take no offense at your question. Yet I am afraid that once again, I shall disappoint you for I cannot yet tell you. I promise that I will tell you someday, but now is not the proper time,” Alaisia shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

While Thorin grunted in acknowledgement, Alaisia could tell that he was only marginally satisfied at her response. _Why did I promise to tell him at some point? I’m only forestalling the inevitable..._ Alaisia’s brows knitted together in concern, but a playful nudge from Thorin broke her out of her worry.

“Do not fret, Alaisia. I am disappointed, but it is enough to know that one day you will consent to tell me,” Thorin reassured her with a slight chuckle. “Your evasiveness only deepens my curiosity. I look forward to learning the truth, whatever it might be. I shall not ask again until you decide that you are ready to share your family’s past with me.”

Wearily, Alaisia smiled. “Fear not. I shall keep my word, Thorin.”

_Even though you will surely despise me when I tell you_ , she mentally added.

_~_

Steadily, the terrain became less flat and less icy. The sun’s golden glow gradually penetrated the grim clouds, rendering the weather more fair although it was still winter. At the top of a large hill, Alaisia paused and gasped. Rolling hills covered in rustling grass, pierced occasionally by granite monoliths that rose regally out of the ground, filled the countryside in front of her. This environ stretched for leagues in front of Alaisia’s vantage point, interrupted at times with the twinkle of a stream in the sunlight.

“ _Rohan_ ,” Alaisia breathed out in wonder, “the home of the horse-lords. Many have written of their valor and fortitude in combat.”

Thorin released a sigh of relief as he reached for Alaisia’s hand, clasping it gently in his own. “Yes. We are out of the greatest dangers of winter now, and Dunland is not too far away. Now we must traverse these lands.”

“And hope that the bloody horse-men do not try to stop our progress,” Dwalin gruffly interjected.

“Dwalin, the Rohirrim are far from Esgaroth and further still from the mountains of the North. They are unlikely to send us away out of fear that a dragon might attack. I have heard that they are territorial, though, so they may get the wrong impression when they see a veritable army of Dwarves marching across their fields,” Balin explained to his brother.

“Aye, there are not many Dwarves in Dunland. The horse-men might want to keep it that way,” Dwalin growled with dissatisfaction. “The sooner we pass through these lands, the happier a Dwarf I’ll be.”

Alaisia rolled her eyes at Dwalin’s grumpiness. Thorin noticed and chuckled conspiratorially. Morak and Thila approached along with Thrain. Thrain turned to address the column of Dwarves in an effort to reassure his people, for many were whispering about whether their journey might be halted by the Rohirrim just as the Men of Esgaroth turned them away.

“We are not seeking to colonize the lands of the Rohirrim; we merely seek free passage through so that we may join what remains of our kin in Dunland,” Thrain declared. “If they are suspicious, we will explain ourselves, and there should be no trouble if they are reasonable folk.”

~

The Dwarven exiles traversed the plains of Rohan for several days without incident. Villages were scattered about the lands, but none of the peasants approached. Some fled back to their dwellings upon sighting the Dwarven company. One afternoon, however, the Longbeards felt the ground quake from the stampeding of horses. Regal riders bore aloft the banner of Rohan, a white horse on a verdant field. They came to a halt in front of the Dwarves.

“Greetings, my lords,” Thrain declared. “I am Thrain, son of Thror who was King of Erebor ere it fell to the dragon Smaug.”

A tall rider removed a gleaming helm crowned with a mane of golden horse hair.

“Well met, Prince Thrain. I am Fréaláf Hildeson, King of Rohan. We ride today to determine your purpose in these lands, for rumors of your passage and purpose have spread throughout the realm, and these rumors have caused much concern among my people. I do not mean to threaten you. Indeed, I merely wish to quell the unease my people feel. I am deeply sorry for the tragedy that has befallen you and your kin.”

Thrain opened his mouth to speak, but he stopped when he heard heavily booted footsteps approach. He turned to see Thror, his father, striding forward with a surprising air of humbled pride. None of his former madness was apparent in his eyes.

_Adad…is he free from the dragon-sickness at last? When? How?_ Thrain wondered.

“Hail, and well met King Fréaláf. I am Thror, the King of the Dwarves of Erebor in exile. I can assure you that we have no ill intent in your lands.”

Shaking himself out of shock at his father’s apparent recovery, Thrain continued “Aye, my father speaks the truth. We do not come to appropriate land from the hard-working people of Rohan. We merely seek passage to Dunland, and your permission to dwell there, that we may join our sundered kin.”

Fréaláf turned to his companions for brief discussion. _They must be speaking in their ancient tongue,_ Thrain realized for he could not understand their strange words. Dwalin, who stood next to Alaisia and Thorin, snarled under his breath.

“Do they mean to turn us away, when we only plan to walk through their realm? What is there to discuss?” he spat out. He opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could continue to gripe Alaisia gave him a firm elbow to the ribs. Balin snickered at the appalled look on Dwalin's face.

“Dwalin, be quiet and quit your whinging. They seem reasonable. Do not assume the worst of them. Not all humans are as selfish as those that turned us away from Esgaroth,” Alaisia admonished. Dwalin grunted and turned to Thorin, who gave no response as his attention was focused on the conversing Horse-men.

At last, Fréaláf again turned to face the Dwarves with a look of sympathy.

“I have discussed the matter with my advisors. We have agreed to grant your people your wish of traveling through Rohan to Dunland. Moreover, you may freely dwell and delve within Dunland. In return, when you are settled I request that you safeguard our borders against the Dunlendings, who menace us at times. Rumors of the skill of the Dwarves of Dale and Erebor in more prosperous days have reached us, so once you are settled, my advisors intendto send an ambassador to discuss trade.”

Thror looked to his son and grandson, who nodded slightly. “Your terms are just, and we accept them with gratitude.”

Thorin stepped forward. “Indeed, you have shown great kindness to us in our time of need when our allies abandoned us. As soon as we are able to re-establish workshops for trade in Dunland, we will gladly receive your ambassador.”

“Then it is settled,” Fréaláf replied. “We ride back to Edoras. I wish you well in the journey ahead of you.”

A flurry of _neighs_ filled the air as the Rohirrim rode southward to return to Edoras. Thrain and Thorin turned to Thror.

“ _Adad_ ,” Thrain began, unable to find the precise words.

Thror bowed his head in shame. “I have failed my people. I was unable to lead them in our time of greatest need, and my greed wrought a fiery doom for our kingdom as well as Dale, just as the Elvenking predicted. Perhaps redemption is impossible. Nevertheless, I shall strive to uphold Durin’s mantle in the remaining years of my life, and to do right by the Longbeards.”

Thrain looked to his son, whose eyes glistened with tears threatening to fall.

“What matters, _Adad_ , is the course you take in the future. I am glad that you are free of the dragon-sickness at last,” Thrain responded.

Thorin clasped his grandfather’s shoulder. “I trust your leadership. You are yourself again, and for that I am grateful. Take our people to Dunland.”

“Aye,” Thror whispered, the pain of his past behavior still written in his expression, “I shall.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I welcome comments with reviews, suggestions, and questions! There will be more updates next week.


	17. An End in Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves reach the edge of Dunland at last, but Thorin is skeptical of their new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for posting this so late in the day! Classes have just started back up at uni and things are already getting a bit hectic as I'm graduating this quarter. Thanks as always for reading, and I welcome reviews in the comments section!

For another two days, the Dwarves continued their tiresome march through the rocky plains and hills of Rohan. Food was more plentiful there as the winter was not quite so harsh, allowing the exiles to eat far better than they had previously in their trek. Fréaláf’s promise of establishing trade in the future did much to rally the spirits of the craftspeople among the band of Longbeards. It seemed, for the first time in weeks, that prosperity might be within their reach once more.

Dwalin ceased his grumbling about the horse-lords after seeing Fréaláf’s kindness and even grudgingly acknowledged to Alaisia, Thorin, and Balin that he had been wrong to assume the worst of the Rohirrim. Alaisia sought Balin’s company to learn more about the history of Rohan, and she listened with rapt attention as he told her tales of the great Rohirrim heroes of old, such as Helm Hammerhand who defended his people against the Dunlendings. When Thorin overheard Balin explaining Helm’s war against the Dunlendings, his concern regarding Fréaláf’s mention of them grew; he had not realized that the conflict with the wild-men had such deep roots, and such longstanding contempt.

 _Perhaps that will make them more dangerous foes, and we will now be seen as allies of the Rohirrim to them_ , Thorin worried. _Our people are weak and can ill afford to face a serious military engagement._ His brooding was interrupted as the group came to a craggy overlook at the border of Rohan.

“Is that…?” Thorin queried.

“Aye, lad. Yonder lies Dunland,” Thror spoke as his shoulders sagged in relief that a halt to their lengthy journey was nigh.

Swallowing hard, Thorin carefully and skeptically surveyed the lands below. Leagues of plains enveloped in golden grass and scraggly trees brushed up against marshlands to the west and the foothills of the Misty Mountains in the north and east. Snowcapped peaks proudly pierced the sky, standing in sharp contrast to the snowless ground below.

 _Our new home_ , Thorin resignedly acknowledged. No grand mountain halls would await them in Dunland. They would be lucky, Thorin deemed, if whatever village the Dwarves of Dunland currently resided in had _any_ type of stone building.

“Rather barren, but I suppose Dunland has its own rugged beauty,” Alaisia noted as she stepped to Thorin’s side.

He nodded in agreement. “Indeed, it is quite desolate, but I suppose it will do well enough. At least for now...” A defeated sigh escaped him.

Alaisia gave Thorin a knowing look and glanced eastward to the land from whence their long expedition began. “We have done well to survive thus far. If we can trudge across a sizeable portion of Middle-earth in the dead of winter, we can scratch a living out of whatever awaits us in Dunland.”

“Forgive me for my glum demeanor, Alaisia. You are right. We should not deny the victories that we have achieved thus far. The odds were very much against us, both during Smaug’s attack and after. That we have made it to this point – that we are still alive and together – is worthy of celebration.”

Smiling gently, Alaisia murmured “There is no need to apologize. These have been dark times for our people, and it is entirely reasonable to long for what was lost.”

 _And for what never had a chance to begin,_ Thorin thought wistfully as he allowed his mind to stray once again to how he could have begun a proper courtship to Alaisia in Dale and how he had no means to do so now. Instead of voicing his concerns, he shrouded his emotions and merely inclined his head in understanding. At any rate, he had no chance to speak further on the matter as his father approached.

“ _Inùdoy,_ I shall give you the honor of telling our people that we have arrived at the edge of Dunland. Speak to them and rally their strength for the final stretch of our travels. Afterward, we shall find a safe path down to the plains below and seek our kin, wherever they may be,” Thrain declared.

“Aye, _Adad_ ,” Thorin replied softly. Thrain walked away to begin investigating potential routes down the overlook. Thorin’s eyes strayed to Alaisia for encouragement.

“Remember our conversation, Thorin. You bear glad tidings of a chance at recapturing some of our former fortune in a new land. Regardless of our current exile, you are our crown prince, and our people need to hear a confident voice. You must provide them with strength when they cannot summon it themselves,” Alaisia advised.

“Thank you,” Thorin murmured as he clasped Alaisia’s shoulder briefly in gratitude. Steeling himself, Thorin raced up to the highest point on the overlook and turned to face the exiles.

“My people. Long have we journeyed in search of a new home. The Men of Esgaroth denied us, but now the Horse-lords of Rohan have kindly given us leave to dwell in Dunland, where we may live alongside other Longbeards who established a home here long ago. Our lifestyle may not be the same here as it was in Erebor or Dale, and this may not be our home for more than a few years. Nonetheless, this place offers us a refuge from the harshness of winter and a place to recover from our losses while we gather our strength for the adventures to come,” Thorin declared.

Cheers arose from the crowd of Dwarves, for all were eager for an end to their strenuous trek. Alaisia gave Thorin an approving nod which he returned with a faint smile. As the cheers subsided, Thorin cast his cynical gaze back over the wilderness below. His stare hardened. _I hope that we will not linger here overlong. No prosperity, no normalcy, no home can truly await us in this place. Our settlement here is simply for survival_.

~~~

It was early afternoon by the time the entire group of Dwarves finally made it down the incline to the plains below. All were weary and eager for rest, but the group forged ahead in search of a secure place to camp for the evening.

 _I have heard few birds and seen fewer plants aside from this blasted grass and those hideous, scraggly trees,_ Alaisia thought grouchily. _The grass looks fair from afar, but it snags and clings. And all is so open, so defenseless._ She recalled her earlier conversation with Thorin, attempting to remind herself that they _would_ somehow find a way to survive here, but instead snarled in irritation as she felt a stabbing pain in her leg from a thorny bush she had neglected to dodge. Alaisia jumped when Thorin rushed to her side.

“Are you all right?” He asked with concern as he knelt in front of her to carefully remove the thorn from her leg. Although the wound was only minor, Thorin tenderly brushed his thumb across it when he finished removing the thorn.

“Aye, just clumsy evidently. Thank you for removing that. I hope that we shall find where the other Dwarves are settled soon. I am ill at ease here, for in this open space we are vulnerable. Even if we do find a proper settlement of Dwarves, it will take work to expand and fortify it for all of these people,” Alaisia muttered.

 _Which means more weeks of sleeping exposed to the elements,_ she bitterly realized. In her mind, she had expected their arrival in Dunland to be a return to comfort and security. She had looked forward to the simple luxuries of a warm bed, four walls, and a secure roof. Perhaps she had needed that expectation to muster the strength to keep going. Reality began to set in when she first laid eyes upon Dunland, and continued to rear its ugly head every time another thorn pricked her as she walked. Her grumpiness lifted slightly as she felt a familiar calloused hand reach for her own.

“Do not give up hope, Alaisia. We will find the other Dwarves. However, you do have a point on the matter of fortifications,” Thorin replied as he rubbed his beard in thought with his free hand. “We have not the tools to fashion buildings of stone here so unfortunately we shall have to rely on lumber to build. And wood is vulnerable to flame,” Thorin remembered with a grimace. His eyes darkened and a shudder coursed through his body.

 _He is thinking again of Smaug’s attack,_ Alaisia realized. She squeezed Thorin’s hand in comfort and stepped closer to his side.

“Not a day goes by where I fail to think of the firestorm that swept through Dale and Erebor. In my nightmares I still hear the screams of those who did not escape and see the faces of those lost... Someday, perhaps, we will return triumphantly and reclaim our homes from the Dragon. But for now, we must build our future in the West of Middle-earth,” Alaisia murmured.

“Aye,” Thorin agreed tiredly, “that we must.” He left his hand entwined with Alaisia’s as the pair continued hiking through the unforgiving landscape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will feature a surprise encounter with the Dunlendings! I welcome feedback, and I'd also love to hear from you if you're enjoying the story.


	18. Shadows in the Forest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaisia teaches Dis how to use a sword, and the Dwarves face off against the Dunlendings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I really appreciate everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos thus far.

Thror led his people to a small, grassy clearing bordered on the western side by a small forest of tangled trees and prickly shrubs. Eerie shadows cast over the clearing by the trees gave it a decidedly ominous look. Nonetheless, it seemed secluded and secure enough for Thror’s tastes.

“Nightfall approaches, so it would be unwise for us to venture further into these unfamiliar lands. We shall make camp here this evening and set out at the break of day tomorrow. Soon, I deem, we shall find the other Dwarves that dwell here,” Thror announced.

Several Dwarves were put to work gathering lumber for fires to ward off the chill evening breeze, while others prepared food and tended to the ill. Thrain ordered some of the more able fighters remaining in the group to form a perimeter at the eastern edge of the camp as a precautionary measure in case of an encounter with hostile forces. Alaisia sat down on a fallen log near the western rim of the encampment to polish her sword, but was soon approached by Dis.

“Now that we are in Dunland, can we finally start my sword-fighting lessons?” Dis asked eagerly.

Alaisia chuckled lightly. “Yes, young dwarrowdam, so we may. Have you a blade?”

Dis grinned proudly. “Frerin gave me a spare sword to practice with. I’ll have my own sword when Thorin can access a forge again – he said that he would make one for me!”

“That will be an exciting day indeed, little one,” Alaisia replied fondly as she ruffled Dis’ hair. “Since you have a sword, let us begin!”

She started by showing Dis the basics of how to hold and swing the sword, blocking, and proper footwork. Thorin’s sister proved herself to be a fast learner, and she quickly mastered these elements as her brothers looked on with pride.

“I could have sharpened your sword more. I was afraid that you might be clumsy and accidentally hurt Alaisia if I sharpened it too much, but I see now that my concern was misplaced!” Frerin teased.

“You forgot that I’ve watched you and Thorin train for years now! Of course I’m not _entirely_ incompetent,” Dis countered.

“Indeed, you are not incompetent at all. Quite the opposite! You’ve already exhausted what I had planned for the first lesson. Perhaps we should move on to basic slicing motions and thrusts, or how to better dodge blows,” Alaisia noted.

Dis clapped her hands in excitement. Alaisia moved to demonstrate a basic sword thrust when she heard a firm _thwack_ on a nearby tree. She whirled to face the tree and heard a telltale rustling in the distance.

“Dis,” Alaisia whispered calmly as she placed herself between Dis and the trees, “run quickly to your brother Frerin. Stay close to him.”

Concerned, Dis did as told. Thorin rushed to Alaisia’s side and drew his sword. Other Dwarves near them in the encampment also heard the arrow strike the tree and murmured in confusion. Softly, Alaisia crept toward the tree to examine the arrow.

“This is not one of our arrows. It is far cruder…” Alaisia declared. _Dunlendings_ , she realized.

Thorin’s eyes grew wide. “All able-bodied Dwarves, ready for an attack from the western forest!” he shouted. Their best fighters were, unfortunately, currently at the _eastern_ perimeter.

Upon hearing his shout, a mass of Dunlendings swarmed forward bearing bows and jagged blades. Alaisia grimaced as she had no shield to guard herself with if the Dunlendings decided to shoot at them. The Dunlendings advanced menacingly through the forest toward the Dwarves.

“Frerin, stay back and protect your sister. Take her to the eastern edge of the camp! If we are not under attack there, send the warriors stationed there to assist us here.” Thorin bellowed at his younger brother.

After hesitating for a moment, reluctant to leave the fight, Frerin obeyed his older brother’s orders and pulled Dis along after him to safety. Thorin glanced about wildly, taking into account the relative size of the Dwarve’s fighting force versus the Dunlendings.

“Our best hope is to charge into the forest to meet them, I think,” Alaisia whispered to Thorin. “If we stay here in the open they can pick us off from a distance.”

“True, they’ll have the advantage if we wait back here for them to reach us. Hopefully the soldiers will come with haste under Frerin’s orders,” Thorin responded. He looked back to his fellow Dwarves, and commanded “Charge! Fight to protect our people!”

The Dwarves burst forward, roaring battle cries of “Baruk Khazad!” and “Du bekar!”, and clashing with the Dunlending horde just inside the forest. Alaisia and Thorin fought against the wild-men at the forefront of the skirmish. They battled back-to-back, guarding one another against blows from the Dunlending warriors. _We are meagerly equipped, but what weapons we do have are far superior to those of the wildfolk,_ Alaisia realized as she fended off a surly combatant with a slash of her sword.

Grunting as he thrust his blade into the chest of a Dunlending warrior that had lunged toward Alaisia, Thorin shouted “We should have set up a stronger guard for the camp in the west!”

“Aye, that we should have. Let us hope that we lose few warriors, for we cannot afford to have our numbers shrink further,” Alaisia responded as she dispatched several more Dunlendings charging at her and Thorin.

One particularly burly Dunlending, wearing a wolf pelt and battle paint, growled in rage and began marching toward Thorin and Alaisia. He appeared to be a chieftain of sorts, and wielded a double-bladed axe. Three other fighters followed behind him.

“Thorin!” Alaisia shouted urgently to get his attention. He turned toward the direction she was facing and clenched his jaw. There was little time to prepare, and the other Dwarves around them were already engaged in combat.

“I’ll take the large one if you can ward off the others,” Thorin told Alaisia as he placed himself in front of her.

“You can’t seriously plan to take him on alone! He’s a mountain of a man,” Alaisia said agitatedly.

“I have a fair chance if I can face him in one-on-one combat. I’ve trained plenty against Dwalin and his axes – don’t worry about me, Alaisia,” Thorin assured her.

Worried, but recognizing that Thorin’s plan was perhaps the best chance they had, Alaisia nodded curtly. The pair charged forward to meet the wolf-pelt wearer and his lackeys. Thorin’s sword clashed against the chieftain’s axe, and Alaisia placed herself between the chieftain’s followers and Thorin. One attempted to bash her with a large wooden shield, but Alaisia swiftly dodged and kicked him firmly in the crotch. He winced and clumsily dropped his shield, which provided enough time for her to drive her sword into his chest.

Alaisia glanced back to check Thorin’s progress in battling the chieftain. Thorin had managed to draw blood through a shallow slash to the chieftain’s chest, but the pair were still locked in combat and blocking each other’s blows. The crunch of leaves drew her back to the task at hand as the other two followers of the chieftain approached her. _How am I supposed to take on two at the same time?_ Grunting in exertion, she raised her two-handed sword to block a blow from one warrior’s sword before ducking to avoid the incoming swing from the other Dunlending man’s axe.

As she rose and turned, Alaisia found herself face-to-face with the swordsman as he was swinging his sword toward her, leaving her no time to dodge. Suddenly, though, she heard the sickening crack of bone splitting. The sword clattered to the ground from its former owner’s lifeless hands. When the Dunlending warrior fell, Thrain was standing behind him.

“Are you all right, lass?” Thrain asked. “Thorin would kill me if something happened to you.”

Stunned, Alaisia blinked for a moment before responding shakily. “Aye, thank you for saving me. I feared the worst for a moment.” The cry of anger from the remaining Dunlending warrior with an axe startled them both into action once more. “Thorin is still battling who we believe to be their chieftain – the massive fellow with the wolf pelt,” Alaisia notified Thrain with a jerk of her head in Thorin’s direction. “I can handle this last one here.”

“I do not doubt it,” Thrain answered with an approving nod. “I’ll leave you to it, then, and go assist my son.” Thrain ran toward the brawl between Thorin and the Dunlending chieftain as Alaisia used her sword to knock the axe out of the Dunlending fighter’s hands. She finished him off with a slash of her sword across his neck.

Breathing heavily, she turned to see Thorin and Thrain finishing off the chieftain. The large man fell to the ground with a resounding _thud_ , and his followers took note of his defeat and fled. Many dropped their weapons in a panic, and they left their dead scattered in the forest.

“Shall we pursue those who fled? They may return with more warriors, or ambush us during the night,” Alaisia asked Thorin, brandishing her sword and preparing to run after them.

Thrain, standing nearby and panting from the exertion of the battle, responded instead. “Nay, lass. Though they may return, we must linger and establish a secure guard while we tend to the wounded.”

Alaisia and Thorin carefully surveyed their surroundings. Several dozen Dwarves lay injured. Another dozen were killed in the fray. _Loss of life that might have been avoided if we were more careful in securing the campsite,_ Alaisia thought with regret. Her mood lifted somewhat as she saw Thila, Morak, and Thror approach.

Running to her parents, Alaisia embraced both of them tightly. “I am relieved to see you both uninjured, _Amad_ and _Adad_ ,” she whispered with gratitude. “Most of the warriors were not too challenging to defeat, but some were formidable foes.”

“We are glad to see you healthy and whole as well,” Morak responded fondly.

“Aye, although others were not so fortunate. The weapons of the Dunlendings were crude, but effective enough against our weary Dwarf warriors,” Thila whispered sorrowfully.

Thrain, with one arm protectively around Thorin’s shoulders, nodded. “Aye, we are in desperate need of additional arms and armor. But we have no means to forge more or to procure more at the moment.”

Thror gruffly responded, irritated by the plight of his people. “We must see to that immediately upon finding the other Dwarves. It may be that they have a forging apparatus set up, or the tools to construct one. I propose that we leave ere daybreak. Lingering here overlong is a risk that we cannot afford to take.”

“Indeed, ‘twould be wise to put as much distance between ourselves and this site as possible. As the young lass was saying earlier, the Dunlendings may return with more fighters,” Thrain said.

“Now they know that we have superior weaponry – meager though it is – as well as better training, so they may fear to re-engage us in combat. We also managed to kill at least one of their leaders, which did much to lower their morale,” Thorin mused. Nonetheless, I concur. We shall be safer when we find our kin, wherever they may dwell in these forsaken lands.”

~~~

Immediately following the conversation with his family and Alaisia’s family, Thorin sought out his two younger siblings to ensure their safety. Dis bolted over to him and gave him a tight hug.

“ _Nadad_ , you are safe! Frerin and I were too far back in the camp to see any of the fighting, but we still heard the sounds of battle,” Dis exclaimed. “It sounded really frightening. I want to continue my sword-fighting lessons with Alaisia as soon as possible so that I can defend myself well if need be.”

Gently smiling, Thorin kissed his sister’s brow and clasped his brother’s shoulder.

“There is no cause for fear now – the threat seems extinguished for the time being. We dealt a mighty blow to our foes, so they shall have to recover their strength before they are ready to menace us again. I hope that you will never have to take up arms to defend yourself, but I agree that it is wise to continue your lessons,” Thorin explained. He turned to Frerin and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for guarding Dis, _nadad_ ,” Thorin said to Frerin. “Knowing that you were protecting her allowed me to focus on the battle.”

Frerin nodded. “Aye, she may show promise with a blade but she is far from battle-ready. But I wish to ask you something…may I fight in the next battle we have? I was loathe to leave the battle today, although I knew it to be necessary for Dis’ sake.”

Thorin stepped back. “Frerin, I understand your eagerness to fight to defend your kin. But battle such as this is not glorious as in the tales of old. The Dunlendings who attacked us have even less than we. It was not right for them to attack us, but I do somewhat understand their ire. They think that we are taking more land away from them, or perhaps that we were sent here by Fréaláf for the express purpose of eliminating them.”

“Oh, they probably are afraid that a group as large as ours will take all of what few resources exist in this land,” Frerin noted sadly. “I understand. Battle is a matter not to be taken lightly,” he finished with a downcast gaze.

“Do not fret, Frerin. I am not upset with you,” Thorin replied as he gave his brother a reassuring hug. _Although that I fear you do not wholly grasp my point about caution,_ Thorin thought.

Light footsteps approached. _Alaisia,_ Thorin sensed.

“Shall we take a position back on the western edge of the camp? My mind will not allow me to rest, for I still worry that the Dunlendings might return later in the night. It seems proper to partake in at least one guard shift, and perhaps it will ease my over-active mind…” Alaisia suggested.

Thorin turned to face his siblings, who both nodded enthusiastically in agreement to Alaisia for Thorin. Dis actually had a slight smirk on her face, and Frerin had a mischievous glint in his eyes for Mahal’s sake! For a moment, Thorin was bewildered. _Do my siblings actually know of my feelings for Alaisia? Is it that obvious to others? I must take care to better conceal my feelings_ _in case they are not returned_. _I would not wish to drive her away._

Pushing his siblings’ curious behavior from his mind, Thorin told Alaisia that he would join her and bade his siblings good-night.


	19. Reflections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins with a brief flashback in which we meet Valdis, the mother of Thorin.

_Thror stormed into the Great Hall of Erebor, barking out orders at the Dwarves present there to ready themselves for battle. A small army of Orcs had come to the southwest flank of the Mountain and was burning the dwellings of Dwarves that lived on the slopes there. Little Thorin trailed along behind his grandfather, listening and watching with wide eyes as the kingdom prepared for a fight. Thror came to a sudden halt at the sight that awaited him when he reached the throne room. Thrain and his wife Valdis were helping each other to don their armor for battle._

_“Valdis, what in Mahal’s name are you doing?” Thror bellowed. “Your place is here, in the Mountain, watching over Thorin! That boy needs his mother. We have plenty of able-bodied Dwarf men preparing for battle as we speak.”_

_Valdis eyed Thror coldly. “I am in charge of my own destiny, and I will fight for my people when I see reason to do so. Some of my friends were killed by these Orcs. I am more than capable – Thrain can attest to that – so you have no cause to fear or to object. I_ will _return to my son.”_

_Thorin glanced between his mother, father, and grandfather, and knew that his mother had won when Thror huffed and said “So be it. Take caution, though, and leave the battle immediately if you face too much danger.” Thror departed to retrieve his armor, and young Thorin ran forward to his parents._

_“I’m sorry that you had to hear that, sweet one,” Valdis whispered as she wrapped her arms tenderly around her son. Thrain knelt down to Thorin’s level and placed a comforting hand on his back._

_“Why does Grandfather not wish for you to fight? I’ve seen you train with Father plenty of times!” Thorin asked his mother confusedly._

_His parents exchanged a glance. “Some Dwarves are a bit hesitant to let women fight. Do not worry over it too much, Thorin,” Thrain answered._

_The response left Thorin with rather more questions than answers, but even as a wee lad he sensed it was a sensitive subject so he chose to drop it. Instead, he snuggled more closely into his parents, hoping that they would be safe in the upcoming battle._

Thorin exhaled slowly, returning his mind to the present moment as he walked with Alaisia across the restless camp to seek a position at the western perimeter. In retrospect, Thorin supposed his grandfather always _had_ been rather prone to having a tempestuous mood. His grandfather never cared for his mother very much, and he certainly did not approve of Valdis’ proclivity for joining the male Dwarves in taking up arms to defend Erebor. It seemed that things were somewhat different now, for Thror had not yet voiced any objections to the fact that some women fought the Dunlendings, but perhaps that was simply an artifact of their reduced circumstances.

Thorin was glad that Alaisia had no qualms about fighting and that no one tried to stop her. To him, the idea that fighting was only allowable for men had always seemed absurd because of the strength of his own mother. While he had worried for his parents whenever they went off to battle, it made him happy to know that they were together in everything, love and war alike. _Until she died_ , Thorin mused sadly.

Alaisia and Thorin reached the northwestern edge of the camp and seated themselves at the near other Dwarves also on guard-duty. They stared out at the forest for a moment, seeking to discern any potential movement therein, before Thorin broke the silence.

“You fought well today,” Thorin remarked.

“As did you,” Alaisia replied with a weary smile.

Thorin hesitated for a second, trying to find the proper words. “Dwarrowdams in battle are rare. Only you, your mother, and a few other women fought tonight. Although not all in our culture agree, I have always felt that Dwarven women should be able to fight if they desire to. My mother was a great warrior, ere she succumbed to illness after giving birth to Dis. Please continue to fight, Alaisia. Do not allow anyone to discourage you.”

Joy shone in Alaisia’s eyes as she turned to speak to Thorin. “Thank you, my dear friend, for your words of encouragement. I am glad, yet not at all surprised, to find you so supportive in the matter of me fighting.” She paused, sorrow flitting across her face. “I had always wondered about your mother. I am sorry that you lost her, Thorin.”

Thorin sighed and shook his head. “It was some time ago now, but I still miss her dearly. At least Frerin and I knew her, though, unlike poor Dis who was only a mere babe. My mother’s name was Valdis. She was brilliant at diplomacy and had a gentle, yet firm, heart. I remember my father jesting that she might make a better queen than he would a king.”

Chuckling softly, Alaisia replied “Valdis sounds remarkable, Thorin. I really wish that I had the chance to know her.”

“I wish so as well,” Thorin murmured wistfully. Changing the subject to one less painful, Thorin said “You know, when we are finally settled in Dunland we must have a sparring rematch ere we forget that we promised one to each other all those years ago in Dale. After seeing you battle today, I fear that I might lose.”

“Perhaps I shall win, and perhaps I shall not. We shall see,” Alaisia replied with a wink.

~~~

Before setting out at dawn, the Dwarves gathered what they could find of the blades of the fallen wild-men. It was Frerin’s idea – he thought that the Dwarves could melt down the metal to make better swords when they had access to a forge again.

“For who knows when and where we shall again find ample metal resources in these barren lands,” Frerin had said to his father and grandfather.

After gathering what they could, the exiles set out from their campsite and ventured further to the north and east in hope of finding their kin at last. None wished to spend another night in the wilderness vulnerable to the Dunlendings if they could at all avoid it. As they walked, Thorin and his siblings lingered near Alaisia. Conversation was sparse, however, as all were weary. Alaisia cast a brief glance in Thorin’s direction.

_Each day I feel more attached to him. When we were fighting back-to-back against the Dunlendings, it was as if we were fighting as one being. I felt safe with him beside me. I cannot imagine life without Thorin, but do I love him?_ Alaisia pondered.

She decided to work through it logically, for the tumult of emotions threatened to overwhelm her otherwise. _If I do love him, and he does not love me, our friendship that I so cherish could crumble._ The very thought of losing his friendship, one of the few sources of joy to her in these uncertain and dangerous times, made Alaisia shudder. _Even if I love him and he returns the sentiment, that does not mean we can or should be together. He is the heir to the throne, regardless of our exile, and he must marry a noble dwarrowdam from a wealthy family._ A pang shot through Alaisia.

_The Glavrem family is the most prominent family among the merchants and craftspeople, but we are still not Dwarven nobility. Now, more than ever, it will be critical for Thorin to marry well to improve the chances of our people and to gain alliances. Not to mention my Elven ancestry and Thorin’s utter hatred of the Elves…no, it is better to not consider the possibility that I might love Thorin, for it only offers pain and heartbreak_.

Alaisia took a deep breath and stubbornly brushed away a tear at her resolution to ignore any deeper attraction than friendship to Thorin. Perceptive as always, Thorin noticed the gesture and turned to Alaisia with a look of concern as he placed a hand on her back.

“What is the matter?” He whispered gently.

Startled and embarrassed, Alaisia quickly stammered “Nothing, Thorin. I simply fear that I may be allergic to this scratchy grass.”

Thorin eyed her skeptically but removed his hand after briefly rubbing her back comfortingly.

_I know that look…he does not believe me. It matters not, though, as long as he does not press me further._ Alaisia sighed internally and trudged ahead to join her parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Alaisia are both far too stubborn for their own good...


	20. A Village Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the refugees of Erebor and Dale arrive at last in the village of Dwarves in Dunland, and Thorin has a rather pleasant dream about Alaisia.

The Dwarves marched through the night, stopping only for a mere hour’s rest by a stream so that the weary could recover. None knew precisely whither the Dunland Dwarves could be found, but after some discussion Thror decided to lead his people eastward in Dunland toward the rocky foothills of the Misty Mountains. At midday, the caravan paused and cheered.

“Smoke! I see smoke in the distance!” Dwalin shouted with uncharacteristic joy.

"Aye, and several buildings as well,” Balin added with a twinkle in his eye.

“We have found them at last,” Thila said as she breathed a sigh of relief. Morak wrapped her and Alaisia in a warm embrace, tears of joy glinting in his eyes.

Shouting above the clamor of excitement, Thror said “Let us march on! Our kin await us.”

~~~

An hour’s worth of walking brought the Dwarven exiles to the settlement, which was unquestionably humble and rustic. One long stone building with a thatched roof faced a central square with a well, but all of the other buildings (of which there were very few) were either wooden or mud-and-turf. Something to the left of the stone building immediately caught Alaisia’s eye.

“They have a forge!” Alaisia whispered to her parents with glee.

“We shall need to construct more in due course, but this is a good start,” Morak acknowledged.

Murmuring with excitement, the entire village of Dwarves ran out to meet the newcomers. Thror strode forward, followed by Thrain, Thorin, Frerin, and Dis. Two Dwarves from the village walked to meet them.

“Greetings! I am King Thror, in exile with what is left of my people of Erebor and Dale. I present to you my son, Thrain, and my grandchildren: Thorin, Frerin, and Dis. The dragon Smaug has destroyed our home, and now we seek shelter while we regather our strength."

The two wisened Dwarves that had stepped forward to meet Thror and his followers bowed lowly.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I am Arvid, and this is my brother Arngeir. We are the elders of this modest settlement. Word reached us prior to your coming of the plight of your people and of your journey westward. On behalf of my village, I am profoundly sorry for the tragedy that you have faced. You are welcome here as long as you like," Arvid graciously offered.

King Thror dipped his head in thanks, and the rest of the Dwarves from Erebor and Dale cheered that their arduous journey was at last over. However, the village was not by any means a perfect new home for the Dwarves.

“I would be remiss if I did not attempt to warn you, though – ensuring our village’s survival has not always been easy. Dunlendings have attacked us at intervals over the years and stolen our crops. Perhaps with larger numbers we will now be a more intimidating target,” Arngeir cautioned.

“Aye, we are well aware of the threat of the Dunlendings,” Thorin answered. “They sent a large force to attack our camp not long ago as we were journeying to meet you. We slew one of their chieftains and killed many of their fighters.”

Murmurs of approval spread among the villagers at that news. Frerin motioned for the gathered Dunlending swords to be set down in a large pile. As the villagers watched the pile of weapons grow, the look of awe in their faces also grew.

“Can all of you see this? These swords came from our fallen foes who foolishly ambushed us, and from those cowards among them who fled when we vanquished their chieftain. Now, these swords belong to us, and with your forge we can melt them down to craft better swords for us all! The Dunlendings shall not be able to touch us once we properly fortify ourselves,” Frerin boldly asserted. That earned applause and cheers from the Dwarf villagers who looked eagerly toward the pile of steel and iron.

“I am glad to hear that, but there is another matter to discuss: housing,” Arvid noted. “Currently, I fear that we lack the space to house everyone. Most of us live communally in the large stone building for defensive purposes, but there is not enough space to accommodate such a large group as this in there. We must set to work with haste to construct new dwellings, and we shall require your aid in this as our numbers are small.”

"Aye, shelter must be our first concern. I shall muster a party of Dwarves to begin work on the construction forthwith if you are able to supply the equipment and building materials," Thror responded. "There is, however, yet one more item to discuss. We met King Fréaláf Hildeson on our journey to Dunland, and he granted us passage and permission to dwell here on the condition that we establish trade relations and guard the border of Rohan from the raiding Dunlendings. We should also use some of the metal that we get from the swords to make goods to sell or barter,” Thror proposed.

Arvid turned to Arngeir, and the two brothers nodded at each other in agreement. “That is wise counsel, Your Grace. An alliance with, or at the very least a trade connection to, Rohan can only serve to bolster our defenses. Your terms of settlement are fair," Arvid declared.

"Excellent!" King Thror boomed, "let us get to work immediately."

~~~

_Thorin found himself wandering in Dale’s rose garden, restored after reclaiming Erebor from the clutches of Smaug. He spotted Alaisia curled up peacefully asleep in the grass near some of the lavender Dale roses and walked over to her. As he kneeled at her side and rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, she stirred at his touch and sleepily blinked at him._

_“I have something to ask of you,” Thorin murmured softly as he reached to stroke her cheek. “Will you be my future Queen?”_

_Instead of answering, Alaisia threw her arms around Thorin’s neck and pulled him down onto her, kissing him fiercely. Thorin returned her embrace and her kiss with equal eagerness, straddling her and moaning as he sought to explore and memorize the feel of her lips against his. He softly withdrew from the kiss, brushing his lips teasingly across Alaisia’s, and began to weave a trail of kisses down her body_.

Much to Thorin’s chagrin, he did not get to find out what happened next in his dream as he was rudely startled awake. He glowered angrily about the stone building for the culprit and his eyes landed on Dwalin, who was sleeping not far away and snoring as loudly as a mountain bear. Thorin briefly contemplated throwing his pillow at Dwalin. Dreams about Alaisia were some of the few good dreams that Thorin still had when he managed to sleep, and they always ended too soon for his taste. Grunting in dissatisfaction at Dwalin, and knowing that sleep would not return to him easily, Thorin rose from his bedroll and made for the door.

When he exited the building, he saw that he was not the only one whom sleep evaded. Thorin swallowed hard as he saw Alaisia sitting against the building’s exterior wall. He thought to just go back inside, feeling too embarrassed to face her at the moment, but Alaisia had already noticed his presence.

“You cannot sleep either?” She whispered glumly, although Thorin thought that he detected a hint of hope in her voice. Alaisia looked distressed about something, so he sat to offer her his company. He was startled when Alaisia promptly burrowed into his side and wrapped her arms tightly, almost urgently, around him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck.

“What happened?” Thorin asked with concern as he soothingly placed his arms around Alaisia.

“Another nightmare,” Alaisia admitted. “Worse than the previous ones.”

Thorin’s heart fell. He knew that Alaisia’s sleep, much like his own, had often been plagued with nightmares since they were forced to flee their homes. It helped both of them to talk about it sometimes so that the nightmare didn’t linger in their minds, taunting them in their hours awake. “What was this one about?”

“Many things. It started with watching Dale burn, and then I was suddenly in Erebor. I was running desperately, trying to find you in the chaos, but I...I couldn’t get to you in time.” Alaisia’s voice began to crack, and Thorin felt tears begin to stream down her face and onto him. “Then, I felt a dragon’s claws close around me, squeezing the life out of me. My dream changed after that, and I saw a series of Dunlending faces, and of scenes from the battle the other day...”

Thorin said nothing for a moment, instead nuzzling his cheek against Alaisia’s head. Anger coursed through him at Smaug for wreaking havoc on their lives and at the Dunlendings for bringing in a fresh wave of trauma that had clearly sparked his love’s latest torment. While he wished desperately to kiss Alaisia, he was not sure if it would be welcome so he settled for pulling her closer against him. She sighed contentedly, the tears that had begun flowing as she described her nightmare slowing to a minute trickle, and Thorin lifted his hands from her briefly to brush the last tears away tenderly.

After a moment’s hesitation, he rested one hand on her cheek, gently cupping it and lifting her head to look at him. “I have heard from elder Dwarves that it is not uncommon to have nightmares after you engage in your first battle, and after you kill for the first time. Those Dunlendings would have killed you and I if we had not killed them. They started the conflict. There is no need for you to bear any guilt.” He paused to draw in a shuddering breath. “As for the nightmare about Smaug, I hope that those nightmares will cease soon for both of us now that we have found a new home. I survived, just as you did. Wake me up if you have a nightmare like that again. I hate to think of you out here alone.”

Alaisia closed her eyes and pressed her cheek more closely to Thorin’s hand before she returned to her former position of being nestled against him. “Thank you,” she whispered meekly. “Did you have a nightmare too? Would it help you to tell me about it?”

Thorin’s face flushed, and he was very grateful that the moon was waning so that Alaisia could not see the color in his face. “For once, I actually did not have a nightmare. I had a pleasant dream. We were in Dale’s rose garden together after Erebor and Dale were rebuilt.” It was close enough to the truth, even if certain key details were omitted. “I only woke up because of Dwalin’s obnoxious snoring.”

Alaisia laughed at that. “Aye, Dwalin has woken me up snoring before too. That sounds like a lovely dream. Dale’s rose garden is perhaps the place I miss most in the city aside from my old house. Do you think we will go back someday?” Alaisia asked.

“I hope so,” Thorin said quietly.

The pair sat in contented silence for a moment. “If you wish to go back inside, I think I’m fine now. I’ll come back in soon,” Alaisia whispered reluctantly as she began to extricate herself from Thorin’s arms.

“No, I do not think that I shall be able to fall asleep again for some time. I’ll stay here with you,” Thorin responded. Alaisia happily settled back into his arms, and after a short while her breathing began to slow as she descended into peaceful sleep. Thorin gently held her for a while, gazing fondly down at the dwarrowdam who was once merely a close friend but who now very firmly held his heart, before carrying her back inside the building to rest her on her bedroll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I welcome comments with reviews, suggestions, and/or questions!


	21. Uneasy Prosperity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter introduces a slight time jump to the year 2785, moving us closer to the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs which will happen earlier in this story's timeline than in book canon.   
> Warning: there is very brief strong language in this chapter.

The Dwarves of Erebor and Dale worked alongside the Dwarves of Dunland, laboring hard to expand the settlement enough so as to accommodate the entire group. Construction resources were plentiful enough, for a modest woodland lay to the west of the settlement and many quarries existed to the east. A second stone building was constructed behind the original one to house the common folk, and individual wooden houses were made for the wealthier families among the Exiles including the royal family. The Glavrem family made their dwelling in one of these modest wooden abodes, and hastily began to set up their business for trade with Rohan.

Some of the exiled Dwarves had fortunately been away from the Mountain and Dale when Smaug wrought his fiery doom, so when they rejoined the Exiles in Dunland these Dwarves still possessed much of their wealth. Their wealth provided the resources needed to expand the forging apparatus at the village and to initiate trade with Rohan.

Over the years, the once small village burgeoned and began to show the first glimmers of prosperity as trade with Rohan expanded exponentially. King Thror’s greed had begun to grow again as wealth trickled in, and many whispers spread around the village that the dragon-sickness might be upon him once more. The Glavrem family's fortunes rebounded as trade increased, for Alaisia, Thila, and Morak were among the best smiths in the settlement and their work was much sought after by the Rohirrim.

Alaisia felt herself settle into a new routine, albeit uneasily as the memory of Smaug and what her family - what all of her people - lost in the firestorm lingered in her mind. Thorin, too, found his mind consistently wandering to the past, to the simpler and happier times before the fire-drake came. More than once he desired to speak to Alaisia, to confess his love for her, but the shame of being a prince without a kingdom to inherit and the fear of finding his feelings unrequited sealed his voice. Alaisia, stubborn to a fault in holding to the promise she made to herself, tried her best to focus on her feelings of friendship toward Thorin. In her dreams, though, she sometimes lay with Thorin under the stars, kissing him tenderly. She often wondered whether she could really deny her feelings for him.

Alaisia felt pangs of jealousy whenever Lady Afara, a dwarrowdam from a noble house, sought Thorin's attention. Afara's father, Lord Stonehelm, was one of the Dwarves away from the Mountain when Smaug attacked and was abundantly wealthy, which of course caught the attention of Thror. Lord Stonehelm and King Thror clearly desired a match between Thorin and Afara although Thorin clearly had no interest. More than once Alaisia had to stifle a giggle when Thorin glowered at Afara's disgusting fawning and stormed off.

One morning in the year 2785, Thorin was preparing to lead a caravan with the latest trading goods to Edoras. Alaisia approached him as he was readying his pony.

"Good morning, Alaisia. I am glad that you came to see me off, as I’m afraid that I will not have another chance to speak with you for some time since you are departing on a trading venture soon as well," Thorin said with a twinge of sorrow.

"I would never miss the chance to speak with you before you set out. Besides, I have a gift that I made for you. I hope that you may find it of use on your journey," Alaisia responded shyly as she gave Thorin a small package.

A spark of curiosity and surprise glimmered in Thorin’s eyes. Thorin deftly removed the wrapping on the package from Alaisia, and he let out a soft gasp when he saw the contents. Alaisia beamed with pride at his reaction.

"They are like your vambraces that you wore in Dale when we first sparred...the day we first met all those years ago. The vambraces that you lost when Smaug came," Thorin whispered.

"Aye, I tried to replicate the subtle vine and floral detail as best I could, though the intervening years have muddled some of it in my mind. You don't ever wear vambraces when traveling, so I thought that you should have some for protection and I remembered that you liked the design..." Alaisia's voice trailed off slightly. "I also wanted to give you something to remind you of me when we are traveling apart," she finished, flushing somewhat.

_Mahal, I hope that he cannot see the blush that I feel forming on my face_ , Alaisia thought with an internal groan. Thorin, having almost immediately donned the vambraces and appearing utterly oblivious to Alaisia’s embarrassment, embraced her in a tight hug. Alaisia nuzzled her head gently against Thorin’s shoulder as she leaned contentedly into his arms. Being in Thorin’s arms always cast a certain peace over Alaisia’s often restless mind.  

"Thank you, Alaisia. I am deeply touched by your gift - I know how proud you were of the original vambraces. I will treasure these," Thorin said. Alaisia grinned in satisfaction, but her smile faltered as Thorin broke away from their embrace.

“I wish that we did not have separate destinations,” Alaisia murmured despondently.

Thorin gave her a sympathetic look and reached out carefully to tuck a stray strand of Alaisia’s hair behind her ear, briefly running his thumb over her cheek as he did so. "You are not the only one with that wish. Perhaps I shall be able to join you on your next trip to Bree.” He released a heavy sigh and stepped back. “I must depart now, but I wish you a safe journey Alaisia. Please send word back to the village when you and the rest of the caravan have safely reached Bree. It will be our first trade expedition westward...please be careful," he whispered with a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Alaisia chuckled. "You worry too much, Thorin. We will be fine, but I will be sure to send word when we arrive in Bree. Have a safe journey to Edoras."

After Thorin mounted his pony and trotted to the edge of the village to leave with the other Dwarves of his caravan gathering for the journey, Afara marched haughtily over to Alaisia.

"Lady Afara, is there something amiss?" Alaisia asked reservedly, taking note of the Dwarrowdam's agitated demeanor.

Afara huffed. "I do NOT appreciate you bestowing intimate gifts on my future husband. You may hail from a wealthy merchant family, but your familiarity with the crown prince is inappropriate and unseemly."

Alaisia rolled her eyes. "Future husband? I was not aware of any formal engagement. Please, _do_ enlighten me if I’m wrong."

Afara smirked. "For now, no. There is no formal engagement per se. But my father - a _noble_ Dwarf - and King Thror desire Thorin and I to wed, so there shall be an engagement soon enough.”

Feeling anger well up inside her, but deciding against an indignant outburst, Alaisia calmly responded "Thorin would never marry a woman that he has no love for. He has done nothing but spurn your advances. He will not marry you simply because elder Dwarves will it."

Unabashed by Alaisia's frankness, Afara stepped forward and cackled in her face. "Of course you would say that Thorin is spurning my advances. A _whore_ always thinks that her lover has eyes only for her."

Something inside Alaisia snapped, and she felt fury overtake her. She slapped Afara across the face as hard as she could, leaving a bright red mark on the Dwarf-maid’s skin. Afara gasped, cradling her face with one hand and looking about for someone to come to her aid. Alaisia now took her turn to smirk, and began to walk away when she saw King Thror storm toward them with a stern look. Her anger froze and her heart fell into her stomach, a cold sense of dread taking hold.

_Now I've done it...Afara undoubtedly deserved that slap, but I will pay for my recklessness._

“Alaisia, what in Mahal’s name is the meaning of this?” King Thror barked out as he placed a comforting arm around Lady Afara's shoulders to comfort the dwarrowdam.

Alaisia steeled herself. “She accused me of being Thorin's whore. I defended my honor, and Thorin’s quite frankly, by slapping her,” Alaisia bluntly stated.

King Thror approached Alaisia, anger brimming in his face and hands clenched into fists, when Thrain rushed over and placed himself in between Thror and Alaisia.

“Father, there are other matters that require your attention. I will speak to Alaisia. Lady Afara, you are dismissed,” Thrain intoned coldly. King Thror looked at his son with narrowed eyes, then gave one last warning glance to Alaisia before stomping off. Lady Afara glanced at Thrain nervously before running away, sensing her loss of allies.

Thrain turned to Alaisia, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Are you all right, Alaisia? I heard the entire conversation that you had with Afara. Your reaction of slapping the horrid wench was more than justified, and I will see to it that you face no consequences," Thrain declared.

Alaisia let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, my lord, for coming to my aid. I had no fear regarding my actions until King Thror came over..."

"You are more than welcome, Alaisia. I know how close you are with Thorin, and I have great respect for you as well as for your family. I would not see you dishonored by a supercilious schemer. However, I might suggest that you refuse to converse with Afara in the future to avoid a repeat of this situation," Thrain finished with a wink.

Alaisia grimaced. "Aye, I believe that is for the best. Although I doubt after today that she will seek me out again..."

Thrain chuckled. "You are probably quite right. You nearly gave the maid a broken nose - she shall have a bruise for quite some time, I deem. She deserves it. Afara disrespected not only you but also my son." He paused, thinking for a moment. "And you know my son very well, for you are correct in your assessment that he would only ever marry for love."

"I wonder if that will be possible for him now," Alaisia whispered sadly.

"Whatever do you mean, lass?" Thrain responded curiously.

Sighing, Alaisia said "We may be relatively prosperous now, at least in comparison to how destitute we were when we were forced to flee from Smaug, but I know that we intend to retake Khazad-dum and eventually Erebor. A marriage to a noble Dwarrowdam from a wealthy family would certainly help our circumstances and would be hard to refuse for duty's sake."

"Alaisia, it does not matter if the King and duty push Thorin toward a politically convenient marriage. Your original assessment is correct - he will not marry except for love," Thrain stated. "I will see to it that my father does not force Thorin to act in a manner contrary to his happiness."

"I am glad of it," Alaisia whispered, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes for what this might mean for her. "Lord Thrain, if it is not impertinent to ask I would like to know whether you married for love?"

"It is not impertinent, and I did marry for love. I did, however, go through a formal courting process. Several Dwarven ladies of noble families were brought to the throne room, and I had brief conversations with all but one of them. One, my dearly beloved and now departed wife Valdis, I spoke to until sunset. I knew after a short time that I loved her and that she loved me, and we were wed quickly. It was a whirlwind courtship for us," Thrain reminisced with a hint of bemusement. "Thorin has no desire to go through such a process as having noble Dwarf maids paraded before him to see if one strikes his fancy." Clearing his throat, Thrain continued "Please let me know straightaway if the King or Afara's family give you any trouble. I do not want to keep you from your work for the day any longer - you are a fine craftswoman. The vambraces that you made for Thorin were wonderful."

With that, Thrain wandered off to mingle with other Dwarves in the village. _So Thorin has no desire to meet with noble Dwarf maids as potential marriage prospects? Does he feel that he is too busy for marriage, or is it possible that he harbors some feelings for me? The way his father spoke to me...oh, maybe I'm reading far too much into a simple conversation_. Groaning in frustration at the lack of certainty, Alaisia set out for her home, anxious to tell her parents of the morning's events.


	22. A New Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading and leaving kudos! This chapter is short, so I'll update again tomorrow.

Over the next few days, whispers followed in Alaisia's wake as the tale of her confrontation with Lady Afara spread throughout the village. In general there were two factions: those who disliked the haughty dwarrowdam Afara and were therefore gladdened by Alaisia's decision to slap her, and those who were sympathetic to Afara on the grounds of her status as a noblewoman. On several occasions Alaisia caught a glimpse of Afara, still pouting from the altercation, and glared at her. Alaisia herself was the recipient of hostile glances from the King, but Thrain was never far afield and he kept his word that Alaisia would face no repercussions for her actions.

Alaisia hurried to the door of her family's cottage after gathering supplies on a particularly gossip-filled morn, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the clamor ceased when she shut the door behind her.

" _Amad_ , _Adad_ , I collected the last supplies. Are you ready to leave yet?" Alaisia impatiently queried.

Thila chuckled. "Eager to leave the village behind for some time, _nathith_?"

Alaisia rolled her eyes. "It is a boring village, and I was foolish enough to provide it with some excitement by slapping Afara. Actually, it was not that foolish because that wench deserved it, the worthless pile of Orc dung that she is, but now it seems the other Dwarves can speak of little else. Perhaps they will have returned to their pleasant boredom by the time we return from Bree."

Morak nodded in sympathy. "Aye, we can only hope. The King has given us a cold shoulder since that incident...perhaps if our trading venture in Bree is successful a bit of gold will ease his temper. I worry now that Thrain is all that keeps Thror from showing his full wrath."

It had not occurred to Alaisia that Thror would be spiteful enough to punish her parents for something that _she_ did! "I am sorry that my actions have impacted you as well, _Adad_ and _Amad_ ," Alaisia whispered with a hint of shame, "Perhaps I acted too rashly."

Thila and Morak shook their heads emphatically. "No, Alaisia, you had to defend your dignity. We are proud of you," Thila reassured her.

“Thror and Afara, as well as Afara’s meddlesome father, are the ones who should be ashamed. The little act that Thror put on of being over the dragon-sickness for a few years has long faded, and his favor is as fleeting as snow is upon on a dragon’s arse,” Morak bitterly spat out.

"Thank you for reassuring me," Alaisia responded with a weak smile.

"We had best get going. The other Dwarves must be gathering for our journey by now," Morak said.

The Glavrem family gathered their supplies for the trade expedition and set out to join the rest of the Dwarves that were to travel with them. The trip would be the village's first attempt at trade with the villages of Men that lay to the West, and if it proved lucrative the Dwarves hoped to establish regular trade to the West in addition to their trade with Rohan.

Thila, Morak, and Alaisia were designated by Thrain as the leaders of the venture as the plan was crafted by the four of them. Several merchants - Storr, Ronja, Alfrun, and Hrolf - also chose to test the western markets. Although all of the Dwarves were at least decently equipped to fight if need be, a handful of Dwarves were selected to serve as guards on the expedition. Chief among these guards was Drayli, a young but talented warrior from a wealthy house who had recently caught Dis' eye.

As the travelers readied their ponies and wagons laden with wares, Thrain approached, smiling broadly.

"Ah, there you are Alaisia. Thorin told me before he left that he wished for you to send a letter back from Bree to notify us that you arrived safely. I have arranged for two more Dwarves, a messenger and a guard for him, to join your party."

Addressing all of the company, Thrain continued. "The King regrets that he could not be here to see all of you off on your journey, but I wish all of you good fortune in your travels. May you return soon, laden with fewer goods and with more gold."

The Dwarves cheered at that, and bowed on their ponies before setting out from the village.

_So, the proud King is so furious with me still that he refuses to see off our trading party as is customary. I daresay that nothing short of the cessation of my friendship with Thorin would appease Thror. But that will never happen_ , Alaisia silently vowed.

As they rode off, Alaisia's mother whispered to her mischievously. "Thorin wishes for you to write? That is something that you neglected to mention."

Alaisia sighed. "Aye, but only as a matter of friendship and practicality to verify our safe arrival. There is nothing more between us as of yet, if that is what you are implying."

Thila shook her head wistfully. "How many more years will you stubbornly continue to ignore your true feelings for Thorin, _nathith_? You are doing yourself no favors by pretending that you only desire friendship from him."

Stunned at her mother's uncharacteristic frankness, Alaisia gaped for a bit and then stared down at her pony's mane in embarrassment. Her mother rode ahead to join her father at the front of the group, leaving Alasia to her thoughts.

_I swore to myself years ago that I would not explore my true feelings, whatever they may be, that I would suppress them...but perhaps Amad is right. Hiding from my emotions will not change them. Thrain’s words also mean that there may be some cause for hope. What are my true feelings, though?_ Alaisia huffed in frustration and cast a glance backward at the village, which was already becoming a small speck in the distance.


	23. Bree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaisia and her fellow merchants reach Bree where they soon learn that trouble is brewing in the West of Middle-earth.

The company of Dwarven merchants took the Greenway north to Bree, skirting the ruins of the once-grand Numenorean city of Tharbad. The landscape transitioned from the familiar flatlands and sparse trees of Dunland to rolling hills and forests as the Dwarves drew nearer to Bree.

Alaisia grimaced as a spattering of rain swelled into a deluge at Sarn Ford, still some distance from the village of Bree. She drew her cloak about her to little avail. Fortunately, Thila and Morak were able to acquire waterproof tarps to cover the wagons filled with trading goods as the downpour continued to plague the group for the remainder of their journey. Squinting through a wall of rain, Alaisia finally saw lights in the distance.

" _Adad_ , _Amad_ , is that Bree?"

"It must be - it looks rather gloomy, though," Morak responded with some dissapointment.

"With this accursed rain I cannot fathom how it could be anything but gloomy," Thila remarked with irritation. "This weather makes Dunland seem downright cheery!"

They approached the gates of the village and drew back in surprise as an elderly human drew a panel on the gate open.

"What do you folks want?" He shouted so as to be heard above the storm.

Morak led his pony to the front of the group. "We are Dwarven merchants, exiles of Erebor and Dale now dwelling in Dunland. We seek trade with your fine village, if you will admit us." He bowed for emphasis, knowing that flattery worked well when dealing with humans.

"Ah, it has been several years now since we have had fine Dwarven wares in our town. Not seen any Dwarven merchants since the Great Quake in the Blue Mountains some years ago. We'd be happy to have ye."

With that, the human wrenched the creaky gate open to let the Dwarves in.

"It is late, so I assume ye folks will be wanting food for your bellies and warm beds to rest your weary bones. Head up the main road here and you'll come to the Prancing Pony. Best inn ‘round these parts. They offer discounts on accommodations for merchants," the gatekeeper said.

The Dwarves passed through the gate eagerly as they murmured their thanks and ventured up the hill to the Prancing Pony.

"Well, at the very least they seem to be decent folk, although I don't see how we will manage to find customers for some of our more expensive wares," Alaisia whispered apprehensively to her parents.

"I have heard that the Hobbits frequent Bree, and that some come with large purses in search of exotic trade goods. We should be able to make a tidy profit," Thila replied with an air of confidence as she surveyed the area.

Alaisia nodded, and jumped as a resounding boom in the distance marked the return of thunder and lightning. _I certainly hope that we will make money on this venture, for we need it to appease Thror, and it would at least make this miserable journey worthwhile_.

She followed behind her parents as they wound their way through the streets of Bree and toward the Prancing Pony. When they reached the inn, Alaisia cast off her sodden cloak and reached into one of the wagons to find the paper, ink, and pen that she had carefully stowed at the bottom. Delighted to find the items unharmed by the rain, she found a table by the inn’s roaring fireplace and began composing her letter to Thorin.

_Do I dare to mention or give my account of the incident with Afara in the letter? I have no assurance that the messenger will leave the letter unopened, and I also do not wish to worry Thorin...I will write as I normally do and speak to him about Afara if I must when I return._ Alaisia silently cursed Thror and Afara for the drama back at the village.

_Dear Thorin,_

_I write to tell you that we have arrived safely in Bree. The journey here was uneventful save for the torrential downpour that came in the latter portion of our trek. It is a dreary town, but it seems that there may be ample customers for the goods we have brought to sell, so perhaps our journey may yet prove profitable. Folk have been kind to us thus far in this town, although they have not received Dwarven merchants in some time due to an earthquake in the Blue Mountains (I was quite surprised to hear of that, for we had no word of any such calamity!). We hope to leave within a few days as planned and are staying at the Prancing Pony inn. You will have to tell me of your visit to Rohan when I return - while this venture is exciting, I do love visiting the Golden Hall. I hope that all is well with you and the village._

_Your friend, as always,_

_Alaisia_

_~~~_

The merchants rested at the Prancing Pony and awoke early the next day to set up their stalls. After speaking to the innkeeper, a man named Mr. Butterbur, they secured permission to sell their wares in the main marketplace of Bree. By dawn the Dwarves were prepared for customers. Word had spread quickly among the residents and visitors of Bree, so the Dwarves were quickly swamped with customers and curious onlookers. Alaisia's parents put her in charge of selling weaponry while they sold the jewelry they had produced. After helping several human customers, Alaisia was somewhat surprised to see a Hobbit lass approach the stand.

"Hello, are you interested in purchasing one of our fine weapons?" Alaisia enquired.

The little Hobbit's eyes shone with excitement. "Yes, my father gave me money to purchase a bow. It seems that the coming winter will be harsher than the last, and we may have need to hunt. There are also unsettling rumors of Orc and Goblin raids just beyond our borders, not to mention the wolves that howl frightfully at night..."

"What is your name, lass?" Alaisia asked softly.

"Violet Took," the girl responded proudly, "and your name?"

"Alaisia Glavrem. Is the bow for you? If so I recommend this one. It is a smaller bow so it will not be as awkward for you to draw, but it will serve you well for hunting and self-defense," Alaisia advised.

Violet gently took the bow in her hands, and tested the weight by drawing the string back. "Yes, I think that this will be perfect! I have used my father's bow before, but it is rather too large for me." She set the bow on the counter of the stall as she reached for her coinpurse to pay for it. Pausing, she added "I will also need a quiver of arrows."

Alaisia glanced back at the bow, then carefully scanned the selection of arrows she had before selecting the appropriate ones. "I believe these will suit the bow and your draw length best."

"You must know a lot about archery," Violet commented.

Alaisia chuckled. "To be honest, I am still more confident with a blade than with a bow. I had only occasionally used a bow until I arrived in Dunland with my fellow Dwarven exiles. I was teaching a younger Dwarf how to fight when an arrow from a wild-man of Dunland struck a tree near me...I suppose that after that incident, I realized the value of archery in combat and began to train more carefully. Not to mention also having to hunt to help feed my people for a time."

Violet's eyes grew wide. "It sounds as if you have been through many adventures, and many of them none too pleasant." She finished making her payment. "I hope that the future holds happier adventures for you and your kin. Thank you for the bow - I hope that one day I can be a warrior craftswoman like you!"

"Thank you Violet, and I wish you and your family good fortune in the winter to come."

_What fell times are we living in, that even the Hobbits feel they must arm themselves against potential threats? I hope that little Violet and other Hobbits will never have to go to battle_ , Alaisia thought.

The rest of the day passed with considerably less conversation and was a flurry of activity as the merchants sold their wares. By noon on the Dwarves' third day in Bree they were sold out of all goods - weapons, jewelry, clothing, and toys. Visitors (mainly Hobbits, particularly of the adventurous Took and Brandybuck families) disappointed that they had missed out on the goods flocked to the merchants even as they were cleaning up their stalls to ask when they might return with more items for sale.

"Well, _Amad_ , it certainly seems that your prediction of a high profit was accurate," Alaisia declared in delight.

"Aye, we shall have to return in the near future with more to sell," Thila beamed.

Ronja, one of the other merchants on the trading venture, returned to the square with a cart filled with goods. "I used some of the profits to obtain food, seeds, and gardening tools from the Shire-folk. We can diversify our crops back at the village now, if these seeds can be bothered to grow in that horrid soil."

The other merchants applauded her efforts, their mood lifted at the prospect of having more varied food on a regular basis, and headed back to the Prancing Pony.

~~~

At dawn the following morning, the Dwarves began their journey home to Dunland. Disturbing rumors whispered throughout the village of Bree spoke of recent attacks on travelers on the Greenway north of Sarn Ford. An injured adventurer had stumbled through the gate of Bree just one day prior, frantically murmuring of Wargs and Orcs before collapsing from his wounds. Morak suggested that the company take the Great East Road to the Hoarwell River at the Last Bridge before heading south, staying just off of the Greenway to return to Dunland, and hopefully avoiding the reports of trouble.

All members of the company took their turn riding at the rear of the caravan to keep watch. Alaisia held her pony steady to let the others pass her so that she could take her turn as the rear guard near nightfall. A rather dense forest lay to the right of the travelers but to the left lay vast plains interrupted only by the occasional hillock or boulder.

_I cannot see anything in that forest due to this blasted rain!_ Alaisia thought as she squinted to scan the forest border for any sign that might betray movement. Suddenly, she heard something whiz through the rain and felt a sharp, searing pain in her arm. A quick glance downward revealed that she had an arrow lodged firmly in her arm. She cried out in pain, causing the rest of the company to look back at her in alarm. Gritting her teeth, Alaisia managed to shout out "We are under attack - someone shot me from the cover of the forest!".

With her one good arm, Alaisia attempted to draw her sword as the others readied for battle. _I should have brought a one-handed sword_ …

The foliage rustled and snapped as a group of Orcs on Wargs surged forward from the forest. Unable to wield her sword effectively with just one good arm, Alaisia flailed helplessly as a Warg charged at her, knocking her down from her pony. Her bow snapped under her at the impact. Dazed, Alaisia struggled to stand. One of the other Dwarves managed to slay the Warg and its rider but he was unable to aid Alaisia for the Dwarves were vastly outnumbered. Alaisia saw her parents fighting in the distance and desperately trying to reach her. She heard more rustling in the woods and scrambled to reach for her blade as more Wargs charged out. One was bearing down on her when a horn sounded in the distance.

_Aule save us…did we stumble into an Orc army somehow?_  

She turned away from the sound of the horn and felt a large object hit her upside the head, causing her to fall to the ground again and sending her reeling. Alaisia braced herself for another attack when two arrows whizzed over her head, one striking the Orc and one striking its Warg mount. Hoofs approached and she heard a rider swiftly dismount. A pale figure knelt over her.

"Can you hear me?" The figure shouted at her as it shook her shoulders gently.

Alaisia could barely make out the shape of the person speaking to her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. The world was swimming, and her mind could find few words. Her arm was throbbing in almost unbearable pain from the arrow wound. Everything appeared to be darkening at an alarming rate.

“Fading,” she whispered helplessly before the darkness claimed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the cliffhanger! In the next chapter, we'll return to Thorin's perspective as he arrives back in Dunland after his journey to Edoras. I'll be back with another update next week Tuesday. Thank you for reading!


	24. Tension Flaring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin returns to the village expecting to find a letter from Alaisia, but no word has come from her or her companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here's another update! I plan to upload the next chapter on Thursday.

The sun shone brightly over the plains of Dunland as Thorin and his fellow Dwarves rode back to the village from their trading expedition to Edoras. Thorin reached into his pony’s saddlebag to confirm that the small package that he had carefully stowed therein remained undisturbed. It contained a beautifully crafted Rohirrim dagger with their twin-horse emblem, which Alaisia had coveted when she had last visited Edoras with Thorin. To Thorin, it was abundantly clear that Alaisia wanted it, but Alaisia felt it irresponsible to spend her hard-earned money on it when she could craft a dagger for herself. Given Alaisia’s thoughtful gift of the vambraces, Thorin thought that the dagger would be a wonderful surprise for Alaisia.

Thrain greeted Thorin and his fellow travelers as they entered the village, drawing his son into a warm bear hug. “I’ve missed you, laddie. Did you have a successful journey?”

“Aye, a fair exchange of goods as always,” Thorin responded. “I also bought something – not for myself, but for Alaisia. Have you received her letter yet?” Thorin asked eagerly.

He frowned when his father’s face fell. “I’m sorry to tell you that we have not yet heard anything from Alaisia or from those who traveled with her. I sent along a messenger and a guard for him as you requested, and the entire company should be on their way back by now, so I do not know why we have not yet heard anything.”

Thorin’s brow crinkled in concern. “Do you think it possible that something happened to the messenger, or to Alaisia and the others?”

Sighing, Thrain responded “Anything is possible. It is also possible that Alaisia simply forgot to write, or that she felt uncomfortable about it after what happened in the village shortly after your conversation with her before you left. Don’t worry over it too much, Thorin.”

“I know Alaisia. She would never forget to write when she promised to. What happened after I left?” Thorin asked agitatedly.

“An unpleasant encounter between Alaisia and Afara,” Thrain revealed. “To cut to the meat of the matter, Afara accused Alaisia of being your whore – it is difficult to say that word, forgive me – and Alaisia responded by slapping Afara. Nearly broke the wench’s nose! Your grandfather was very displeased, and I feared that he was about to strike Alaisia, so I intervened.”

“Afara WHAT?” Thorin roared in rage. “Afara is nothing more than an _abrâfu shaikmashâz_ , noble in name perhaps but not in actions. Alaisia may not be from a noble house but she is far superior to Afara in character and bearing. And how dare my grandfather move to _strike_ Alaisia? I must go have words with him-”

Thrain cut Thorin off before he could continue his rant. “I know you are angry, lad – I was furious too, Alaisia is a respectable Dwarf-maid – but confronting your grandfather or Afara would be most unwise. Thror’s anger extends to Alaisia’s parents as well, and I am already doing everything I can to ease your grandfather’s unruly temper. Think of the impact your actions could have on the woman you love, Thorin, and tread carefully. Don’t make things more difficult for her.” He huffed in frustration. “It pains me to even be giving you this advice, but your grandfather’s madness has returned and he is unpredictable at best. I feared for a time that he wished to throw the Glavrem family out of the village in his madness, but his anger has cooled somewhat in their absence and may be forgotten if they bring back ample Bree gold.”

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Thorin nodded glumly. “Thank you for protecting them when I could not be here to do so,” he said to his father.

“Of course. I know that you love Alaisia, and I think that she would be a great match for you aside from how stubborn both of you are. For my part, I would be happy to call her my daughter-in-law. You know, Alaisia told Afara when Afara was claiming that she would soon be formally engaged to you that you would only ever marry for love. Unfortunately, your grandfather is a complicating factor. It is a fine and difficult line that you must tread between avoiding stoking your grandfather’s wrath and pursuing your heart’s desire. I will try to do what I can, but your grandfather has more power than I.”

Thrain’s eyes were brimming in sadness over how little he could really do to help his son be with the woman he loved. However, Thorin barely registered that as his mind was reeling from the influx of information. _What in Durin’s name am I to do with that advice? Pursue a romantic relationship with Alaisia or simply maintain friendship and deny my heart out of fear of what my grandfather might do? And Alaisia said that I would only ever marry for love...that is true, but what drove her to say that? Dare I hope that she might love me in return?_

A choice between family and duty, or love and happiness, furthered the sense of unease that had beset Thorin since shortly after his return. While he did not have answers to many questions, and could not formulate words to express all of his fears to his father, he did have one pressing concern to address. “Regardless of what happens, I will _not_ marry Afara or any other dwarrowdam that I have no love for, just as Alaisia said. Honestly, I am unwilling to marry any other than Alaisia. If Alaisia will not have me, if it turns out when I am finally ready to tell her how I feel that she _doesn’t_ return my feelings, I will not marry.”

“You don’t need to tell me that –  I already knew! I am your father, after all.” Thrain replied with a chuckle. “I will see to it that your grandfather doesn’t force you into anything. Beyond that, I don’t know what more I can do.”

“I understand,” Thorin replied shakily. His father embraced him comfortingly.

“It wasn’t easy for your mother and I either, even though Valdis was a noblewoman,” Thrain admitted. “I’m not sure if you realized it but your grandfather never loved her as a daughter-in-law.”

“I realized,” Thorin muttered bitterly, angry at how his grandfather had interfered with the happiness of so many in his family.

“There’s no use dwelling on this now, laddie. Go visit your siblings and get ready for dinner. Your grandfather ordered the preparation of a small feast in celebration of your return. I know you may not feel up to the task right now, but these sorts of functions bring joy to the common folk too. It is important to keep the spirits of your people high as a ruler, Thorin.”

Thorin inclined his head in understanding and withdrew from his father’s embrace. _Perhaps speaking with Dis and Frerin, and a hearty meal, may distract me from my troubled thoughts._

~~~

Upon arriving at the feast, Thorin felt his spirits rise. An array of roasted and salted meat had been prepared along with potatoes, cheeses, bread, and pies. He took a seat at the head of one table near his father and grandfather, eager to begin devouring some of the abundant food that had been served on his plate. Dis and Frerin attempted to sit next to their brother, but Thror rose and ushered them over to Thrain’s side of the table opposite of Thorin. Thorin frowned briefly in confusion at the odd behavior but returned to his attention to his food. As he reached for another forkful of salted pork, however, he saw two figures approaching that caused his appetite to vanish.

Thror rose to greet them warmly and gestured at the two seats left empty to Thorin’s right. Thorin glowered in response and stood abruptly.

“I will _not_ sit next to Lady Afara, especially given how she insulted Alaisia and myself,” Thorin spat. Lord Stonehelm and Thror appeared taken aback.

“Surely I’m more pleasant company than that blacksmith’s daughter? For truly, that is all your Alaisia amounts to,” Afara responded in a sickeningly sweet tone. “I should be near my future husband at a special banquet.”

Suddenly, the special food made sense to Thorin. He had thought this was unusual – seldom did the King prepare banquets to celebrate the completion of a trading mission – but he did not expect this. A quick glance at his father confirmed that Thrain had no knowledge of Thror’s intention. Thror hoped to make this an engagement feast, and to force Thorin and Afara together, even if he did not announce that to anyone other than Afara and Lord Stonehelm.

Thorin would not participate. His rage threatened to explode, but he did not wish to provoke his grandfather’s temper against Alaisia or her parents. _If I’m not here, they cannot have an engagement feast, or anything approximating one_ , Thorin reasoned.

“I have lost my appetite,” he curtly muttered as he strode away from the feast and back to his family’s home. His stomach grumbled in discontent, clearly trying to tell him that he _was_ still hungry even though he had insisted otherwise, but he steadfastly ignored it and changed into his nightclothes to sleep. _My father will speak to him, and prevent this from happening again_ , Thorin thought desperately in an effort to assuage his concerns enough to allow him to fall into the welcome realm of sleep.

Thorin’s sleep was uneasy at best. He tossed and turned, a series of nightmares tormenting him in the fleeting moments he did manage to sleep. Images of the Glavrem family being exiled from the village by his grandfather, of being forced to marry Afara, and of Alaisia in tears flashed through Thorin’s mind in his sleep. At last, a large crashing noise and the smell of smoke drew Thorin out of his nightmares.

_What in Mahal’s name is happening?_ His thoughts strayed to the possibility of a dragon, but it made no sense that one would come for them here out of all places. Dunlendings seemed the most probable possibility given that they had mounted small attacks against their village at times for years now.

When Thorin dressed quickly, grabbed his sword, and went outside he saw that it was worse than Dunlendings. Hideous Orcs were swarming their village, and they had set several buildings on fire including the cabin of a family that lived near the royal family. Frerin and Dis soon appeared at Thorin’s side, each with their own sword.

“Our father and grandfather have already joined the battle elsewhere. We think it is only a small band of Orcs, not a whole army, but there is still a fair number of them,” Frerin informed Thorin.

The three siblings heard screams coming from the burning cabin. A family was still inside, too fearful to stay and too fearful to leave with Orcs on their doorstep.

“We need to go help that family since no one else is coming for them. Others can take care of the rest of the Orcs. I need you two to help me kill the Orcs blocking their way out, as there are too many for me to take out by myself. Are you both ready?” He looked more to Dis than to Frerin, for though his sister was more than capable with a sword thanks to Alaisia’s lessons over the years, she had not yet seen battle.

Dis and Frerin both nodded their heads firmly and followed their brother into battle. The trio bravely charged the Orcs swarming around the burning homestead. Feeling somewhat overprotective, Thorin tried to keep a watchful eye on for his two younger siblings as they fought the Orcs. He had no cause for concern, for both Dis and Frerin were handling themselves well. Thorin drove his sword into the chest of one Orc and swiftly withdrew it, drawing a stream of dark blood with it as he moved to slash at the knees of another Orc that was trying to attack Frerin. Frerin finished off that Orc with a swing to its throat. Both Thorin and Frerin turned to see Dis slay an Orc with a slice of her sword across the Orc’s midsection.

Once enough of the Orcs had been killed, Thorin ran to the door of the home. Beams were beginning to fall in places as fire increasingly engulfed the home, but Thorin ran inside to find the family. He did not interact much with the people inside, but he knew enough about them to know that they had a babe born several months prior. Thorin did not want to have to help bury them or their child if he could do anything to prevent their deaths. The family was huddled together not far from the door. Smoke was starting to hang thick in the air, but there was enough breathable air left that the family was able to take shaky breaths.

“Come with me! My siblings and I have killed most of the Orcs outside your house. You won’t make it out alive if you stay here,” Thorin shouted. He winced as he saw a beam fall further into the house.

Fearful, but choosing to trust in their Prince, the family followed Thorin out of the home. Dis and Frerin were clearing a path for the family to run to safety, and elsewhere the rest of the Dwarves had managed to kill most of the Orcs that had attacked them. The rescued family ran to another group of Dwarves huddled together who had also lost their house while Thorin, Dis, and Frerin finished killing the remaining Orcs that had swarmed the cabin.

As the battle subsided, Thorin moved to commend his siblings. “I’m proud of both of you, especially you Dis. You faced your first battle with admirable courage and skill. Alaisia would be proud of you for learning so well,” Thorin fondly told his sister. She beamed in response to Thorin’s praise.

However, anxiety began to gnaw at Thorin once more as his mind strayed to Alaisia. Earlier, he had an inkling that something might be amiss, but he possessed little evidence to tell him what may have happened. He had a better idea now. Now, Thorin feared that Orcs may also have attacked Alaisia and her companions. He looked out into the darkness, worrying over Alaisia’s safety and praying to Mahal that Alaisia was alive somewhere, and that his worst fears were unfounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translation: abrâfu shaikmashâz translates roughly to “descendant of rats”


	25. An Unexpected Rescue

Alaisia's eyes fluttered open to see a pale wood ceiling adorned with intricate carvings. She gasped and began hyperventilating as memories of the Orc attack flooded her mind, and she attempted to sit up only to collapse back on the bed as a splitting headache seized her.

"Where am I?" She croaked in a panicked voice. "Where are my parents?"

"You are safe now, Alaisia, as are your parents and traveling companions," a gentle voice murmured. Alaisia turned her head to the side to see two people at her bedside.

Elves.

Alaisia breathed a sigh of relief. "Imladris," she stated rather than asked. After all, Imladris was the only Elven city that she knew of that was reasonably close to the site of the ambush. The taller Elf with brown hair chuckled, and reached to clasp Alaisia's hand.

"You are indeed in Imladris. I am Lord Elrond, and this is my daughter Lady Arwen. You are lucky to be alive - it is fortunate that we were able to treat your wounds hastily."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I thank you for your aid" Alaisia replied gratefully. She glanced about the room, her eyes resting on a tall Elf by the door clad in a silvery blue garment. His pale blond hair was loosely restrained by a simple braid. He looked at Alaisia with an intense, yet inscrutable, gaze. Alaisia frowned.

_He seems so familiar_ …Alaisia thought, her expression laced with confusion. The Elf bowed his head and slipped wordlessly from the room. When he departed, Lady Arwen began to speak.

“He has gone to inform your parents that you are awake. They have been at your side almost ceaselessly - it took much work to convince them to leave for a short while to rest.”

“Who was he?” Alaisia asked.

“He,” Elrond spoke, “is the very reason that you are alive right now. He found you, when we arrived at the battlefield, and bore you back to Imladris immediately on his own horse.”

“His name is Legolas. He is the son of King Thranduil of the Greenwood Realm,” Arwen chimed in.

“Thranduil’s son saved my life?” Alaisia exclaimed incredulously.  

“Indeed,” Elrond acknowledged, his eyes twinkling with mild bemusement at the Dwarf's gobsmacked expression. “I would not judge him by his father’s deeds against your people. Legolas is very different from his father…the cynicism and bitterness that have entangled King Thranduil have yet to manifest in Legolas. He scarcely left the room while you were unconscious.”

_Why did he feel an obligation to stay in my healing chambers? He is clearly very different from his father…_

“Well, it matters not that he is Thranduil’s son,” Alaisia solemnly said, “I owe him my life. He was under no obligation to aid me yet he did, and for that I must thank him.”

Arwen nodded. “He recognized that the arrow wound in your arm was poisoned and thought to bring the arrow back so that our healers could prepare the proper antidote. Without that, we may not have been able to save you.”

“I was poisoned?!” Alaisia yelped with alarm, but she was interrupted by the racket of two Dwarves bounding into the room.

“ _Nathith_ ,” Her parents exclaimed with relief as they rushed to her side and threw their arms around her. Legolas did not return with them.

“ _Adad_ , _Amad_!" Alaisia shouted with joy. “You are both uninjured,” she noted with a great measure of relief.

“Aye, though several others among us received severe injuries. Poor Drayli broke his arm when an Orc tried to wrench a weapon from him," Morak said with a shudder.

“We are so glad that you are well, sweetheart. You had us scared there for a while," Thila whispered.

“How long was I unconscious for?” Alaisia asked.

“Approximately three days,” Elrond said, “but after the first day you began mumbling so that it was apparent you were merely sleeping. The poison caused a slight fever and you seemed to be in pain, so we kept you medicated.”

Alaisia shook her head in disbelief before wincing in pain. _I cannot believe that I was unconscious for so long. I wonder how Thorin will react to the news that an Elf, none other than Thranduil’s son, is largely responsible for saving my life?_  Her amusement at imagining Thorin’s face quickly gave way to concern as she recalled when they were originally supposed to return to Dunland.

Speaking in a rush, Alaisia asked “How severe are the others’ injuries? And if we are to remain here for some time, would it be possible to send word to Thorin and the others back at the village? He will be arriving back there soon if he has not already, and I fear that he will worry when we do not arrive according to schedule…”

Thila sighed. “Now that you are awake, you will likely be much improved in a few days’ time according to Lord Elrond. However, the injuries of some others in our company were not as easy to heal. We will need to remain here for at least three weeks.”

“As for sending word…we have already been told that sending a message will be impossible,” Morak said apologetically.

“We cannot risk sending a single messenger if more Orcs roam these lands as we believe, and I fear that a group of Elven messengers might be ill-received, so we are left with little choice,” Elrond explained.

Disappointed, but understanding the reasoning behind Elrond’s decision, Alaisia nodded meekly.

Lord Elrond smiled gently. “There is another matter that I would like to address. I know of your ancestry. I was one of the few whom Celebrimbor trusted with his secret. We had our suspicions that you had Elven blood which your parents quickly confirmed. You should know that Legolas and a few trusted individuals from my household have also been informed. Your secret is safe with us, and you are most welcome here in Imladris.”

Alaisia's eyes grew wide. "Thank you. At home I can only ever speak with my parents about my ancestry and I am in constant fear of it being discovered. I have always dreamed of visiting Imladris...I just wish that it could have been under more pleasant circumstances."

Arwen nodded earnestly. “I regret the circumstances as well, but I hope that you will enjoy your time here nonetheless. We will open our library to you - your parents said that you have scholarly interests - and my father and I will teach you what we can. When your arm is healed enough in a few days’ time, you are more than welcome to make use of our crafting equipment as well.”

_I could forge a sword, here in Imladris, of real Elvish steel!_ Alaisia thought excitedly.

“Thank you for your kindness,” Alaisia said merrily. Her stomach interrupted her with a loud and plaintive grumble. Her cheeks colored at the undignified declaration of her stomach.

Arwen laughed melodically. "My father and I will leave you now so that you can eat. We have a tray of food and water here for you. You also may wish to take something for the pain in your arm, as it will likely hurt for at least another day or so. Since your clothes were somewhat ruined in the attack, I also found some clothes here that should fit you.”

Alaisia murmured her thanks and quickly devoured all of the food on the tray as her parents related the events that had befallen since their arrival. As Alaisia’s arm began to throb, she took the medicine for pain that Elrond and Arwen had left. The medicine quickly made her drowsy, so her parents left her to rest. Alaisia snuggled into the warm, plush blankets of the Elven bed and settled into sleep, feeling more at home than she had at any point since leaving Dale.


	26. Imladris I

Warm afternoon sunlight filtered in through the windows of Alaisia’s recovery room when she awoke once more. To her delight, she noticed that sitting up brought much less pain than it had before, and that the throbbing in her arm had nearly dissipated. She hummed contentedly at the luxuriousness of her surroundings and at her improved condition.

Mischievously, Alaisia found herself wondering what Thorin might say now if he could see her enjoying her stay in an Elven city. Alaisia laughed merrily at the thought and clambered out of the bed. She walked over to a low table where several outfits were laid out for her. A small note indicated that the outfits she did not choose for today would be brought to her quarters for her use throughout the rest of her stay in Imladris.

 _Surely no full grown Elf would fit into any of these. Are these children’s clothes?_ Alaisia wondered.

Even if they were children’s clothes, a thought that made Alaisia momentarily feel embarrassed about her shorter stature, they were very elegant. Perusing the options available, and not wishing to appear excessively Elvish for fear of attracting suspicion from her fellow Dwarves, Alaisia settled on a simple tunic with leggings. The tunic was pale blue, constructed from a shimmery cloth with a hood in the back. An armored silk vest of a slightly darker shade of blue was paired with the tunic as an overpiece. Alaisia tugged on a pair of gray suede boots to match the leggings, admiring the careful crafstmanship put into constructing them.

She left her golden hair down in loose waves as she left her recovery room, drawing back the gauzy curtain over the door to explore Imladris. _I_ really _must remember to call it Rivendell when speaking to my fellow Dwarves_ , Alaisia chided herself.

Alaisia paused, drinking in the sweet, fresh air of the valley. She opened her eyes to look around and gasped at the beauty of her surroundings. It was autumn, and the trees were shod in brilliant fiery hues so that when the wind blew it seemed that flames were dancing among the branches. Gardens filled with flowers, some delicate and others robust, bloomed cheerily as if oblivious to the coming winter. Birds chirped merrily in chorus with the quiet roar of distant waterfalls.

 _This is simply magical_ , Alaisia thought with delight. Glancing at the buildings, Alaisia sighed as she rested her hand on the railing of a low balcony. _I have not seen stonework this fine since Dale. Here, it is as if the buildings are made of lace. They are set so delicately within this environment_ …

She startled as she heard a rustle down the path ahead of her. Footsteps hastily began to speed away, but Alaisia called out, curious to see who was apparently fleeing. The footsteps stopped and slowly, hesitantly almost, turned back toward her. A tall, pale figure stepped lightly around a tree and regarded Alaisia apprehensively.

“Well met, Prince Legolas,” Alaisia said with a hint of surprise in her voice.

Legolas swallowed, and took a few steps toward Alaisia. “Good afternoon, Alaisia. I am glad that you are on the mend,” he said carefully.

“Thank you,” Alaisia replied quizzically, “but if I may ask, why were you running from me just now?”

The Elf seemed shocked and a bit indignant at Alaisia’s bluntness, but seeing her inquisitive demeanor he began to feel a bit sheepish.

“To answer your question honestly, I feared that you would not take kindly to seeing the son of the man who betrayed your people.”

Much to Legolas’ surprise, Alaisia chuckled. “Indeed, it mustn’t surprise you that I have no fondness for the Elvenking. But you, my Lord...I owe you my life, and my thanks. Without you, I would have died on that battlefield, and I thank you for ensuring my safe delivery to Imladris.” She bowed in respect before raising her eyes to meet those of the Elven prince.

A sigh of relief escaped Legolas. “I am glad to hear it, and you are most welcome. You do not owe me anything, however - I did what any honorable soul would do in such a circumstance.”

_Very different from his father clearly. Perhaps if Legolas were king instead of Thranduil, Smaug would be dead, and we would be on the other side of the Misty Mountains still…_

Legolas walked over to join Alaisia on the balcony and took a deep breath.

“In all sincerity, I had made up my mind to come speak with you. I lost my courage to do so before, but now I feel up to the task.” Legolas confessed.

Alaisia regarded Legolas with a perplexed expression. “What do you wish to speak to me about, my Lord?”

“Firstly, you need not call me ‘my Lord’ or ‘Prince Legolas’. ‘Legolas’ will do - I have never cared much for titles,” Legolas said as he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “What I really came to do was to offer my apologies,” he whispered bashfully as he cast a nervous glance at Alaisia.

Trying to refrain from laughing at the absurdity of Legolas’ words, Alaisia remarked “Legolas, in case your memory fails you I am alive because of you. What could you possibly have to apologize for?”

“It is not my own offense for which I must apologize. My father treated your people despicably when Smaug came. I knew of his plan to march his armies to the doorstep of Erebor and then turn back, and I begged him to change his course or to at least offer aid to your people for the coming winter instead of taunting you. He would not listen. He forced my cousin and I to remain in the palace under guard, unable to take any action to offer assistance. I, too, have my biases against the Dwarves but I would never scheme to deny aid to those in desperate need of it.”

Alaisia opened her mouth to speak but found that she could not form the proper words. She closed her mouth to avoid seeming like a gaping fish and instead waited for Legolas to speak again. Legolas took a deep breath before continuing.

“Furthermore, I also must apologize to you for how my father treated you personally. After the ill-fated trip that severed the alliance between our people, he told me of a strange Dwarrowdam with no beard. He also told me of the insult he offered to this Dwarrowdam - he was quite proud of himself. After seeing you, hearing of your background, and learning that you can speak Elvish...I knew I had to say something. I am terribly, terribly sorry for how my father has behaved. You are a descendant of Celebrimbor and should have been treated with respect rather than with disdain.” Legolas smiled grimly. “If anything, I am still in your debt, I fear.”

Alaisia gently rested a hand on Legolas’ arm and found her words again, overcoming her shock at Thranduil’s son actually _apologizing_ to her for the events that followed Smaug’s attack. “You are not in my debt, Legolas. I would not hold you accountable for your father’s actions, although I do appreciate your apology. I only wish that you were the Elvenking and not he, for then the fortune of my people may have been different. You must understand that I can never, ever forgive Thranduil for what he did to my kin, but I bear no ill will toward you.”

Legolas’ eyes shone with gladness. “I understand completely, and I would expect no different an answer.” He paused for a moment, gazing wistfully out over the valley, before turning back to Alaisia.

“Your parents said that in years past you were fond of wandering in the gardens of Dale,” Legolas noted.

“Aye, I was. Dale was full of parks, gardens, and orchards before the Dragon came…” Alaisia’s voice trailed to a whisper as she cast her head down in sorrow. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder. Looking up, she saw Legolas looking down at her with concern.

“I did not mean to upset you. I merely wished to ask if you would enjoy wandering the southern gardens of Imladris, for they are just down the path from here and we have some time yet before supper,” Legolas said.

With a hasty survey of her surroundings to ensure no other Dwarves were present, Alaisia smiled and nodded. “Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you, Legolas.”

Legolas offered her his arm as the pair strolled down the path toward the garden. He hesitantly spoke after a short while.

“I know of the pain and sorrow that dragon-fire can bring,” he whispered. “Dragons have long been foes of the Elves, and my kin have not been strangers to the wrath of dragons.”

Curiosity piqued, Alaisia responded “What happened to your kin?”

Legolas drew a deep breath. “Orcs were raiding along the length of the Misty Mountains some centuries past. We did not think of acting until they penetrated the borders of our kingdom. Upon discovering that their source was the ancient stronghold of Mount Gundabad, my father and mother decided to lead an armed assault against the Orcs. She was a warrior-queen, you see.”

Alaisia nodded with a pensive expression on her face. Legolas continued.

“My cousin, Tauriel, and I were left at home to guard the kingdom while her parents and mine marched to war. We had already done much damage to the Orcs’ numbers, or so we thought, during previous skirmishes. But when our army reached Gundabad they discovered that the remaining Orcs were not alone. A dragon served as their commander. Our army at first attempted to fight the beast, but then my father gave the command to fall back when it became apparent that our weapons were useless against it. My mother, fiercely stubborn until the bitter end, would not retreat. Her sister and her sister’s husband, Tauriel’s parents, ran to fight alongside her. My father begged them to leave the dragon and retreat to safety…but he was not successful. The dragon killed them, and sparks of his fire seared my father’s skin to the underlying flesh and bone on part of his face. He conceals the scar now with what you would call Elvish magic, but it pains him still.”

Legolas paused for a moment to regain his composure as his voice had begun to fade with sorrow. Shaking her head in sorrow and disbelief, Alaisia linked her arm more closely with Legolas’ in a gesture of sympathy. After dissembling his emotions, Legolas resumed his tale. “Thranduil was not always so bitter. It was after that encounter that he became more isolationist. At first he wished merely to protect his people, but now he has grown selfish.”

“I am so, so sorry for what befell your family and your people, Legolas. I think I understand Thranduil better now, too.”

Legolas wiped his eyes, his voice strained as he responded. “That Dragon now dwells in another mountain.”

Alaisia unlinked her arm from Legolas’ and stopped in her tracks as Legolas kept walking, trying to process the implications of Legolas’ words.

“Smaug was the dragon that your people faced?”

“Yes,” Legolas responded solemnly as he turned back to face her. “To some degree I can understand my father not offering military aid in light of what happened the last time we attempted to slay Smaug. But the past makes his refusal to offer humanitarian aid, his _taunting_ of your people, even more abhorrent to me.”

Silently, Alaisia nodded and walked forward stand next to Legolas. She could not find the proper words to respond, for she still found herself dumbfounded by the revelation. Alaisia did not trust herself to say anything civil. The fact that Thranduil had a personal history with Smaug and shunned her people nonetheless made her want to launch into an undignified string of Khuzdul expletives. Instead of doing that, _which would not be productive_ , she sternly reminded herself, she took a deep breath before speaking to Legolas.

“No good will come of either of us dwelling on the past right now, Legolas. But know this: for what Smaug did to your people, and for what he did to mine, we will one day have our vengeance.”

Eyes still misted by tears, Legolas nodded resolutely. “Someday, yes, we shall.”

The pair continued to walk through the gardens in relative silence only occasionally perturbed by Legolas explaining the medicinal use of various plants. The southern gardens, located near the Houses of Healing, primarily served to furnish Imladris with a variety of healing herbs. Alaisia was strolling slightly ahead of Legolas when she came to a neatly paved clearing. She stopped suddenly and bolted to the edge of the clearing before kneeling down in front of some flowers.

“Dale roses,” she murmured reverently as she gently reached out to cup the dusty blue and lavender rose blossoms rising from the ground. Nostalgia overwhelmed her as memories surged into her mind - memories of Dale, of its countless gardens, of all the hours she spent with Thorin in the city, and especially of that day when she brought Thorin to her favorite garden. A rose garden filled with the very same Dale roses that bloomed before her now.

A gentle hand touched her shoulder and Alaisia turned around to see Legolas looking at her with mild amusement.

“I do not recall ever seeing a Dwarf so enthralled by _flowers_ ,” Legolas teased.

Alaisia rolled her eyes. “You do forget, Legolas, that I am part Elf. And I’ll have you know that not _all_ Dwarves are obsessed merely with stone and gold.”

Legolas kneeled on the pavement next to her and smiled. “I apologize for my bias. It is obvious that these flowers are meaningful to you, and I do not doubt why.”

Sighing, Alaisia nodded her head. “These flowers were a symbol of Dale’s identity as a garden city. More than that, they permeated the city - they grew almost everywhere. There was one garden though, a charming park brimming with trees and flowers, that was dedicated to Dale roses as they formed the centerpiece of the floral arrangement. I brought Thorin there, on one of his visits to Dale to see me, when he was especially troubled by the situation with his grandfather. That garden was my sanctuary - I went there whenever I needed a moment of peace to recollect my thoughts or to recover from a long day at the forge. These flowers…for all I know, these may be the last Dale roses remaining after the firestorm.”

Legolas sat silently for a moment before responding. “Visiting Elves brought these flowers back from Dale some time ago from my understanding, but that plaque in the center of the garden was added after news of Smaug’s attack reached Elrond’s ears. It dedicates this garden to the former residents of Dale and Erebor, survivors and exiles alike. The flowers in the back used to bloom on the side of the Mountain.”

Smiling through a threatening veil of tears, Alaisia responded “I am glad of that. This is a lovely memorial to what was lost. At least these flowers can continue to flourish, even if all else is ruined.”

Legolas reached out and plucked one of the lavender roses, handing it to Alaisia who carefully cradled it in her hands. “We are allowed to pick a few of them - the caretakers of the gardens of Imladris keep a repository of seeds for all of the plants growing here so that they may continue to propagate them.”

As Alaisia murmured her thanks and moved to braid her hair so as to weave the flower in, Legolas spoke again. “I noticed that you mentioned Prince Thorin with some familiarity,” he casually said.

“Yes, Thorin is my dearest friend. Stubborn at times to be sure, but ever loyal and caring. I’ve known him since I lived in Dale. Needless to say we have been through a lot together, and exile has only made the two of us closer. I miss him…he did not join us on this trade venture as he had to escort a shipment of goods to Edoras. Did you know Thorin very well?”

Legolas shook his head. “To be honest, I did not see much of him. I accompanied my father on only a few visits to Erebor. Thorin spoke civilly to me - he seemed much more polite and politically intelligent than his grandfather - but our mutual biases and complicated politics prevented any chance of friendship at the time.”

“I can imagine,” Alaisia wryly said. “Thorin of course does not know of my heritage. I fear that his opinion of me would change if he knew I were part Elf. Before Smaug would have been one thing…but now, Thorin despises Elves almost above all else, because of how Thranduil treated us.”

“Is there something between the two of you?” Legolas asked.

Finishing her braid and carefully weaving the rose in, Alaisia furrowed her brow in thought. “There is nothing more than friendship between us. I know that I feel something more than friendship for him, although I do not know if I can call it love. I swore to myself when we went into exile that I would not contemplate any feelings that I have beyond friendship toward him, not merely out of fear of ruining the friendship that I so cherish, but also out of the knowledge that a match to me is not what is best for our people.”

“I do not understand…” Legolas whispered, his voice trailing off in confusion.

“Love and marriage must be so much simpler among Elves since you have such relative plenty,” Alaisia responded with a hint of bitterness surprised herself and that stung Legolas. “We do not have that luxury - at least not anymore. Thorin is the heir to the throne, even in exile. I want him to be happy, to marry for love, but he also has a duty to marry wisely so as to improve the fortunes of our people. At least, his grandfather the King feels so, and I do not want to provoke further conflict with him.”

Stunned and a bit perplexed by Alaisia’s words, Legolas responded “Does King Thror not desire happiness for his grandson, who has lost so much? And what happened that causes you to speak of your own King with such disdain?”

Alaisia gave an unsettling laugh and stood abruptly, staring out over the garden and glaring in contempt at the thought of Thror before turning back to Legolas. “In his eyes, I am a whore who has no place in the village. At least, Lady Afara said so and King Thror took her side.”

Legolas’ mouth nearly dropped to the pavement, but a look of sympathy filled his eyes. “I’m afraid I still do not fully understand…but I think I am starting to.”

Alaisia related the entire altercation with Lady Afara to Legolas including the events preceding it and the gossip that consumed the village after it.

“So you see,” Alaisia muttered resentfully, “if I want my family’s position to remain secure and to retain any chance of continued _friendship_ with Thorin, it is much better to ignore any feelings I might have for him.”

Legolas placed a hand to his brow and grimaced. “What this Afara did…her calling you that _name_ …that would be a grave offense among the Eldar.”

“I’m not surprised. Elves generally have higher standards for polite speech,” Alaisa quipped.

“And Thorin does not know of this incident?” Legolas queried.

“He is probably back in the village by now so I am certain that he has heard of it or that he will soon. That will be a fun conversation to have when we return,” Alaisia sarcastically said. “I shall have to tread carefully in my interactions with Thorin from hereon so as to avoid stoking the wrath of the King. Lord Thrain and Thorin can only do so much if the King’s temper is ignited…”

Legolas stared at Alaisia for a time, struggling to find the proper words to respond. Before he had a chance Alaisia shrugged and continued down the path. She cast a backward glance at Legolas, who began to walk after her.

“So what about you, Legolas? Have you ever been in love? You must have had many suitors over the years as the Prince of Mirkwood.”

Legolas looked at Alaisia carefully before replying. “To be honest, I am not sure,” he whispered softly. “I’ve always been focused on fulfilling my duty to my people.”

Alaisia was about to respond when a loud horn blared. Her hand jumped to her hip in alarm before she remembered that she had no weapon equipped.

Shaken from his musings by Alaisia’s alarmed reaction, Legolas reassured her. “It is all right - that was merely the announcement that it is time to dress for dinner.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Alaisia walked back toward Legolas. “I suppose I should head back to my healing room, then - Lady Arwen left other clothes for me there.”

Legolas nodded. “It is best for you if your people do not see the two of us arrive to dinner together. Some of them have not fully warmed to me and I do not want to arouse suspicion regarding your ancestry.”

“Some of them have not warmed up to you? You saved my life. I’ll make sure that they are at least polite to you,” Alaisia responded with some indignance, causing Legolas to chuckle in amusement.

“Perhaps I can offer them archery lessons,” Legolas replied lightheartedly, “and teach them the proper Elven way of wielding a bow.”

Alaisia giggled. “I would not tell them that they are doing it wrong, nor would I advise you to call it a ‘lesson’. We Dwarves are very prideful creatures, you know. Nevertheless, when my arm is well enough, I would like to practice archery with you. I would be a fool to ignore a chance to improve my skills.”

Legolas nodded eagerly. “It would be my pleasure. Lord Elrond said that your arm will be much improved in a several more days’ time, so assuming you heal as expected we should be able to practice then.”

Beaming, Alaisia responded “Thank you! I shall see you at dinner.” She waved in farewell and set off for her healing room, keen to prepare for dinner and to tell her parents of what transpired since they last spoke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few comments about this chapter: one thing that bothered me about Thranduil's characterization in The Hobbit trilogy was his class prejudice against Silvan Elves. I do not think that he would be biased against them given that most of his people are Silvan Elves, so I diverged from movie canon and wrote Thranduil as having had a Silvan wife. Tauriel, who I've written here as Legolas' cousin on his mother's side, will not appear until the sequel that occurs during the events of The Hobbit. In this version, she won't be a "love interest" for Legolas since they're related.  
> Also, for clarification this will not become a Legolas/OFC romance! Legolas is simply the first friend Alaisia has had that she's been able to tell about her partially Elven ancestry without fear of judgment.  
> I've definitely taken some creative liberties here (especially with more of Smaug's backstory!), so questions, reviews, and suggestions are welcome in the comments section below! Thanks as always for reading - we'll return to Thorin soon, I promise!


	27. Imladris II

Over the next several days, Alaisia endeavored to explore as much of Imladris as possible. She spent her mornings speaking with Legolas, visiting the craftspeople, and wandering the gardens. In the afternoons, she retired to the library to converse with Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen, with her parents occasionally joining them. Alaisia eagerly absorbed the knowledge of the Elves, particularly regarding the topics of history and healing. Lindir, the steward of Lord Elrond, taught her much about the latter subject and gifted her with a medical supply kit and a book on herbal remedies. Alaisia delighted in listening to epic poems and eloquent songs in the Hall of Fire each evening. Gradually, the pain in her arm soothed as it began to mend.

Nearly a week after her first dinner in Imladris, Alaisia awoke to pleasant sunlight trickling into her room through the delicate curtains. Her eyes drifted to the small table by the door and widened. In the center of the table was a slender vase filled with Dale roses. She drew a robe around herself and walked over to inspect the floral surprise. To her delight, several seed packets were placed near the vase. A note was neatly folded next to the packets. Alaisia opened it, curious to read its contents.

_Lord Elrond said that your arm should be healed enough by now to begin exercising it. If you still wish to hone your archery skills, meet me at the range immediately after breakfast._

_Sincerely,_

_Legolas_

Alaisia carefully folded the note back up and placed it back on the table.

_How thoughtful of him to have given me not only fresh Dale roses but also seed packets for them! Now I can start a small garden back at the village. I wonder if Thorin remembers the roses as I do..._ At the thought of Thorin, Alaisia felt a pang go through her chest. _I miss him desperately. This must be the longest I’ve gone without seeing him in some time._

A bird chirping joyfully on the windowsill caused Alaisia to stir from her sadness at Thorin’s absence. She dressed, donning her ensemble from her first day awake in Imladris as it was practical for training. _I hope that they have a bow that will fit my size...I shall have to make a new one when I return to the village since mine was broken in the ambush_ , Alaisia thought miserably.

She scarfed down a breakfast of fruit and honeyed seedcakes with her parents and a few others who were awake early, and then made her way to the archery range to find Legolas. As she approached, she saw him nock three arrows at once to his bow, and in one swift motion he fired the arrows into the center of three different targets.

“How did you do that?” Alaisia breathed in wonder.

Legolas laughed, and went over to retrieve a bow leaning against a tree. He tossed it to Alaisia and she deftly caught it.

“I shall show you soon, but first I wish to test your current skill level. Were the flowers to your liking?”

“They were wonderful, thank you Legolas. I saw them this morning when I woke up, and I look forward to growing more Dale roses back home in Dunland with those seed packets.” Looking down at the mahogany bow in her hands, she smiled softly. “This is a lovely bow - far finer than what I had crafted for myself to use. Thank you for finding me something to practice with.”

Legolas shook his head. “You are quite welcome, but it is not just for you to practice with. If it suits you, you can keep it to replace your old bow. It was made by one of the finest craftsmen in Imladris. Try firing several arrows with it to see if it is a good match for you.”

Alaisia thanked him, and went to retrieve a quiver of arrows. She fired ten arrows, delighting in how the bow sang out as it released each one. After the final one was lodged firmly in the target, she turned to face Legolas.

Nodding thoughtfully, Legolas addressed her. “You are a fine archer, and that bow appears to have the perfect draw strength for you. Your main problem is speed - you are thinking too much, so you take too long to fire your arrows. If you are too slow in combat the enemy will be upon you before you can strike.”

For the remainder of that day, and for a few hours each day over the course of Alaisia’s time in Imladris, Legolas helped Alaisia refine her archery technique. She became much more efficient in aiming and firing, but her skill and speed still did not come anywhere near to Legolas’.

Alaisia did not spend all of her remaining time with Legolas. She lingered at the forges for extended periods of time so as to learn from the master blacksmiths of Imladris and observe their work. Her late afternoons were still primarily passed at the library. On her last day in Imladris, Alaisia sat at a table with a tower of books arranged carefully in front of her as she furiously scribbled notes in her journal. She paused for a moment and sighed.

“What ails you, Alaisia?” Lord Elrond asked gently as he walked over to take a seat opposite of her.

“I was just thinking of the journey home tomorrow. While of course I am eager to return home to our people, I will sorely miss Imladris and the Elves that I have met here. I am anxious to see Thorin again, but I do not know how to tell him of all my experiences here...not to mention the incident with Afara that he almost certainly knows of by now.”

Lord Elrond nodded and, deep in thought, went to a nearby bookshelf. He carefully drew out a rather ancient-looking tome and set it gently on the table. Alaisia read the cover.

“A history of intermarriage between Elves and mortals?” Alaisia read with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, a history that includes your ancestors Celebrimbor and Nalonis. Only Imladris has this particular copy. You wish to tell Thorin of your experiences, but you fear returning home to do so because you think he will not approve of your enthusiasm for Imladris and Elven culture. You fear his rejection of a fundamental part of your identity because you love him, Alaisia, even if you do not freely admit it to yourself yet.”

“Am I really so transparent?” Alaisia responded with a defeated huff. “I suppose you’ve hit the mark rather well, other than I am still not sure whether I truly love Thorin as more than a friend or if I simply fancy him...”

“That is a lie that you keep telling yourself and you know it,” Elrond sternly said. “It is abundantly clear from how you speak of Thorin, from how your whole face lights up when thinking of him, that you love him. Yet you linger in emotional turmoil on the topic, day after day.”

“Has my mother been talking to you? You sound rather like her at the moment,” Alaisia replied, causing Lord Elrond to chuckle. “Loving Thorin is not an option because it invites only pain and rejection. He will not accept my heritage and I cannot lie to him about it. Furthermore, the King - his grandfather - would never accept me as a suitable match for Thorin.”

“Are you really certain that his feelings for you are so shallow that they would evaporate upon learning that you are part Elven?” Lord Elrond responded. When Alaisia just shrugged glumly, he sighed and continued. “I will not tell you which course of action you should take as that is for you to decide. I do not have all of the facts on the matter. Instead, I will tell you this: to take what your heart tells you is the correct path. Feelings can betray you, but failure to follow your feelings can lead to greater pain.”

Alaisia’s brows furrowed and then relaxed. “Thank you for speaking with me. I will take what you have said into consideration, though in all honesty I’m not sure what exactly to make of it.” Laughing lightly, Alaisia added “I suppose that the old adage about Elven advice being cryptic is quite on the mark.”

Lord Elrond smiled and rose as Alaisia did the same. “I told your parents this earlier, but I shall tell you now as well. If ever you desire to return to Imladris, whether to visit or to live, you are most welcome. You shall always have a home, and Elven folk, to welcome you here.”

Alaisia beamed, and felt tears threatening to spill. “Thank you. You have been a wonderful mentor, and friend, to me over these past weeks.”

“You are quite welcome, young Alaisia. I must see to some things for our journey to your village tomorrow, so I shall leave you to your studies.”

After Lord Elrond walked away, Alaisia turned her attention to the book he had placed on the table earlier and began to read, pondering how she might begin to tell Thorin of her past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be back tomorrow with an update featuring Thorin and Alaisia's reunion! Thank you for reading. Kudos and comments are always welcomed.


	28. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin and Alaisia reunite at last, and Thorin is rather shocked to find a group of Elves accompanying the returning Dwarves.

Thorin dismounted from his pony and paced the landscape restlessly, scanning the horizon for any hint of movement. After the Orc raid, he had waited impatiently for word from Alaisia, but no sign of her return was apparent. Thror forbade Thorin from riding out to search for Alaisia, claiming it was too dangerous to do so, but Thorin disobeyed and rode out each day, venturing further beyond the village each time.

“Alaisia!” Thorin roared out desperately before sinking to his knees in despair in the brush of the plains. Tears brimmed threateningly at the corners of his eyes.

_Something must have happened to her and the others. Were they attacked by bandits, or by Orcs allied with those who assailed our village?_ He shuddered at the thought of finding Alaisia’s body somewhere between Dunland and Bree. His fingers grazed tenderly over the delicate design on the vambraces that Alaisia made for him. _Alaisia cannot be dead. I refuse to believe it. I will find her._

Breathing deeply, Thorin steeled his resolve and re-mounted his pony. He urged it onward as fast as it was able to go and soon came to the top of a hill that provided a better vantage point. In the distance, he saw a large group on horses and ponies traversing the plains.

_Could Alaisia perhaps be among them?_ Thorin wondered eagerly. His heart raced as he finally felt a spark of hope after days of anguish. The Dwarf prince sped forward on his pony until he was within clearer sight of the group. Quickly, his eyes focused in on one figure with the hood of her cloak cast back, revealing golden hair cascading down in loose waves.

“Alaisia,” Thorin whispered to himself as relief coursed through him. He barely registered the presence of others in the approaching party as he raced ahead to meet her.

~~~

Alaisia rejoiced as she saw Thorin approach, and she hastened her pony toward him. She dismounted when he was near and waited for him to come to her. Her heart fell slightly at the look of desperation on his face. _I knew that he would fear for our safety. I wish that we had been able to send word..._

“Alaisia!” Thorin bellowed urgently. He leaped off of his pony and rushed forward to embrace Alaisia, breathing heavily and clutching her tightly as if she were an apparition in danger of disappearing.

Alaisia let out a deep breath that she did not realize she had been holding and wrapped her arms around Thorin, allowing one hand to stray upward to his raven hair and rest there intertwined with his locks. “Thorin,” she murmured in his ear, “I am glad to see you once more. There is so much to tell you about these past weeks.” Thorin wrapped his arms more securely around Alaisia and hummed softly, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder and neck.

A wave of contentment washed over Alaisia. _This is what home feels like_ , she realized as she felt joy bubble up within her at the sensation of Thorin’s head nuzzled against her. Too soon, Thorin pulled back to face Alaisia. He placed one hand over her cheek, cupping it gently, and she leaned in to the touch before Thorin withdrew his hand.

“What happened?” he hoarsely asked. “We received no word from the messengers we sent with you to Bree, and there was an Orc raid on the village the evening I returned so I feared the worst…”

“The messengers never arrived?” Alaisia replied with concern. “They left shortly after we arrived with notice of our safe arrival. If they never reached the village, they may have been ambushed by the same Orc band that attacked our caravan on the way home. I am sorry for their families. Is the village safe now? Were there any fatalities?”

Thorin blinked slowly, and shook his head. “No, remarkably there were no fatalities in the village, although some homes were lost, and I fear that we are not safe after what you have told me. So you were ambushed? How?” Thorin took a step back, and only then did he fully notice all members of the traveling party. “And in Mahal’s name, why are so many bloody _Elves_ traveling with you?”

Lord Elrond nudged his horse forward and dismounted. “Hail, and well met Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror. I am Lord Elrond of Rivendell, and we came upon these Dwarves when we were hunting a band of Orcs. Your fellow Dwarves had been ambushed by the very same Orcs and, as some were sorely injured, we offered aid and a safe place to recover. To avoid a similar encounter on their way home I agreed to escort them south with some of my warriors.”

In spite of his hatred of Elves, Thorin appeared about ready to thank Lord Elrond when he looked to Lord Elrond’s left flank and saw Legolas Greenleaf cautiously edging his horse forward.

“What in Durin’s beard is Thranduil’s offspring doing here?” Thorin growled as he pulled Alaisia to his side and placed a protective arm in front of her.

“Thorin!” Alaisia admonished, causing him to withdraw his arm and turn to her with a perplexed expression. “Legolas is the _only_ reason why I am still alive and speaking to you at this very moment. During the ambush, an Orc shot me in the arm with a poisoned arrow, and Legolas found me when the Elves arrived. He bore me back to Rivendell on his own horse. Were it not for his speedy aid, I would surely have perished on the plains.”

All of the color drained from Thorin’s face as he moved to gently cradle Alaisia’s arm, his eyes staring intently at the scar that she showed him. He brushed his fingers softly over the mark and closed his eyes in pain briefly before releasing her arm.

“Forgive me, Legolas, as it seems that I owe you an apology. You have saved my dearest friend, and for that I am in your debt.” He bowed deeply before raising his eyes to meet Legolas’ gaze.

Legolas nodded silently, and his eyes strayed to Alaisia with an almost wistful expression. Thorin noticed, narrowing his eyes again briefly at the Elf before turning to Lord Elrond again.

“I would also thank you, Lord Elrond, for offering my people a place to recover their strength. My initial reaction was unwarranted and ill-mannered.”

The Elf-lord bowed slightly, and replied “I did what I deemed to be right. It is not the way of the folk of Imladris to deny aid to those in need. Legolas’ philosophy more nearly aligns with ours on that issue than with his father. If it would have been possible to send word earlier we would have done so, but some of your people were far too injured to travel until now, and we could not risk sending a few Elven messengers when they might be met with hostility.”

Nodding gently, Thorin sighed. “Aye, I am afraid I cannot deny the truth of that. Under the circumstances any Elven messengers probably would have been received with suspicion. However, as I am fully informed of the circumstances now I must insist that you return with me to the village. We will offer you food and lodging until you are ready to return to your home so that we may begin to repay your kindness to our folk.”

“Thank you for your generosity and for your understanding. We will stay the night in your village and leave early tomorrow morning.” Lord Elrond said.

Thorin nodded and, after offering a small bow, turned to re-mount his pony. Alaisia did the same, and rode alongside Thorin as he led the others back to the village. After some time passed in companionable silence, Alaisia whispered to Thorin. “There’s something that I should speak to you about, before we return to the village…”

Thorin grimaced, and whispered back. “I believe I know of what you speak. That wretched incident with Afara. My father told me about it after I returned. If I was King I would have banished her for the insolent manner in which she spoke to you. You were absolutely right to slap her - indeed, a slap alone may have been too kind for how she insulted your honor - and while my grandfather is not pleased, it seems that my father has been able to assuage his temper somewhat.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Alaisia responded “While I was looking forward to seeing you again, I must admit I was dreading that conversation. That was much easier than what I had anticipated,” she finished with a nervous chuckle. “Still, it would not do for me to be seen riding back into the village at your side. I will fall back and ride in alongside my parents. I will not risk the ire of your grandfather immediately upon returning.”

“Wait,” Thorin began, “there was one more thing that I wished to say. You were right, as my father said, to tell Afara that I would only ever marry for love. I will not marry some haughty noblewoman pushed at me by my grandfather simply because of her father’s wealth.”

“I am glad to hear it confirmed,” Alaisia murmured tenderly, “for I would hate to see you unhappy.” With that, Alaisia held her pony in place to let her parents catch up to her. Thorin stared back at her, an unreadable expression on his face for a moment before he turned to the path ahead.

Thila reached Alaisia’s side. “So, have you told him yet?” She queried with a wink.

“Not yet, but perhaps soon,” Alaisia softly admitted.

_There’s no use denying my feelings now_.


	29. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the delay in posting this chapter! I'll be back tomorrow with another update, and next week there will be daily updates. Thank you as always for reading, and if you are enjoying the story please leave kudos/comments.

Upon their return to the village, the Dwarves were greeted with many cheers but they were also regarded with much confusion until Thorin explained the kindness the Elves had shown. King Thror, while initially hostile, warmed slightly when hearing how Lord Elrond and his kin had helped his people. Legolas was regarded with much suspicion by the Dwarves gathered, which was only moderately eased by word of his heroic actions in saving Alaisia. King Thror held true to his grandson’s promise of food and lodging for the visiting Elves for the evening. Thrain gave orders for the preparation of a feast to be held for all in the village square.

Thror looked visibly disappointed upon seeing Alaisia return alive, but Thrain quickly got his attention and the two became immersed in conversation with Lord Elrond about the threat of the Orcs. Thorin told Alaisia that he needed to retrieve something from his house and briefly departed her side. Alaisia saw Dis run to Drayli excitedly and smiled. _I am glad that the lass has found someone she fancies. I only hope that her grandfather will not be as controlling of her as he is of Thorin..._

Giant arms suddenly constricted her in a rather suffocating bear hug, interrupting her thoughts.

“Good to see ye’, lass! We feared the worst there for a bit.” Dwalin boomed.

Alaisia giggled, and returned the hug gently before promptly coughing. “Dwalin, of course I’m happy to see you too, but you are making it a bit difficult to breathe.”

Dwalin released his arms and gave Alaisia an apologetic grin. Balin came over and gave Alaisia a much gentler hug.

“I am glad to see your safe return too,” he said, “and see Dwalin? This is how you hug someone. No need for accidental choking.”

Alaisia laughed upon seeing Dwalin’s sheepish expression and took a step back, gazing fondly at the two Dwarves that had become like brothers to her. “I missed you both while I was away. It is good to be home once again.”

Balin saw Thorin approaching and smiled. “I expect to hear all about your adventures in Rivendell soon,” Balin said with a wink. He walked away with Dwalin, leaving Alaisia alone as Thorin returned to her with a small package in his hands.

“I bought this for you when I was away at Edoras,” Thorin said excitedly as he passed Alaisia the package. Alaisia opened it, finding a Rohirrim-style dagger inside. The gilded handle bore the twin horse emblem of Rohan.

“Thank you so much, Thorin! This is the very one that I wanted. I shall make good use of it,” Alaisia exclaimed as she threw her arms around Thorin to thank him.

“You are most welcome, Alaisia. I remembered how fond you were of it from our last visit to Edoras together,” Thorin remarked as a broad grin spread across his features. “My grandfather seems quite occupied for the time being, so it seems that we have some time to talk. Shall we find a spot to sit in the square before it gets too crowded?” Thorin asked.

Alaisia nodded and waved to her parents who were talking to some of the other Dwarven merchants before following Thorin. The two sat down under the shade of an oak tree that had been planted at the border of the village square.

“I could not help but notice that you are wearing Elven clothes, and that your bow is different,” Thorin remarked.

“Ah, yes. My bow broke when I fell from my pony in the attack, and my clothes were fairly ruined by the mud. Lady Arwen gave me some of her childhood clothes that were my size, including this tunic outfit. Legolas procured the bow for me from one of the archery craftsmen in Rivendell.”

Thorin nodded thoughtfully. “That was very kind of Lady Arwen to assist you. Did you spend a lot of time with Legolas?”

“Honestly, I did not plan to initially, but I came across Legolas not long after I left my recovery room to get some fresh air. He apologized for how Thranduil treated our people, and we started talking.”

Thorin’s eyes widened in disbelief at Alaisia’s mention of Legolas’ apology. Alaisia noticed, but continued without commenting on it.

“When my arm was well enough to exercise, I practiced archery with Legolas daily and I feel that I learned quite a bit from him.”

“Is Legolas a friend of yours now?” Thorin interrupted, a confused look on his face.

“I would say that we are friends now - it would be difficult to not call him a friend, considering that I owe him my life.”

Thorin bristled slightly. Alaisia rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“I know that you dislike the Elves, Thorin, and I do not blame you. I have no love for Thranduil. But not all Elves are like Thranduil. I learned so much in Rivendell, not just from Legolas but from others there too. I watched the Elven blacksmiths craft armor and weapons, I learned about the arts of healing, and I read much in the library (not all of the works there are in Elvish). Everyone there welcomed us with open hearts even though they were under no real obligation to do so. Lindir, Lord Elrond’s steward, even gave me a satchel with healing essentials and a small book on different healing herbs.”

A guilty look flitted across Thorin’s expression before he moved to grasp one of Alaisia’s hands in his. “Forgive me, Alaisia. My prejudice against the Elves is not universally justified. It does still pain me that you were in danger of death and that I was not there to fight at your side or to defend you. I am glad that you were not lonely in your long stay in Rivendell, and I am happy to hear that you learned much and enjoyed your time there. I would have spent the whole time brooding on my hatred of the Elves. You did something useful with your time – I respect that.”

Alaisia smiled broadly, and left her hand entwined with Thorin’s. _That can be counted as progress, I suppose,_ she thought with some satisfaction. She shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly, so as to be closer to him.

_It has been so long since we have simply held hands like this...but it feels different than it used to_ , Alaisia reflected. _I missed Thorin in Imladris, although I daresay I shall not see much of him here now thanks to his grandfather…_

She looked across the square to see Legolas staring at her and Thorin, but Legolas averted his eyes quickly when their gazes met. A bell rang.

“Ah, that would be the food. Shall I go get food for both of us?” Thorin asked as he gently released Alaisia’s hand, brushing his thumb over the back of it. Alaisia nodded in gratitude and leaned against the tree. A quick glance around revealed that Thror was still away speaking with Thrain and Lord Elrond.

Thorin returned soon with food, and the two sat in a companionable silence for some time as they devoured their meals.

“I bet this is the first meat that you have had in several weeks,” Thorin teased.

Alaisia chuckled. “Thorin, not all Elves are vegetarians. I had plenty of meat at Rivendell, as well as fresh fruit.”

“You must miss having fresh fruit from your days in Dale,” Thorin murmured wistfully.

“Aye, I do. Speaking of Dale, I have something more to remember it by now.”

Thorin’s brow quirked upward in curiosity as Alaisia reached into her pack and drew out one of the seed packets Legolas gave her.

“Seeds for Dale roses,” Alaisia explained. “The Elves have a whole garden of them in memorial of the attack as well as a seed repository.”

Moisture brimmed in Thorin’s eyes. “Like the roses in that garden you took me to,” he murmured.

“Yes, I was wondering if you still remembered that. We can start a garden of those roses here now, if they can manage to grow.”

“Of course I remember,” Thorin replied as he covered Alaisia’s hand with his own again. He had a dreamlike expression on his face, and Alaisia assumed that he must be thinking of their time together in Dale. The two set their plates down in front of them.

Alaisia paused for a moment to enjoy the feeling of Thorin’s hand over hers before speaking again. “There is something else that I should inform you of, something that Legolas told me. Did you know that his mother, and aunt and uncle in addition to many of their soldiers perished in Mount Gundabad?”

Rubbing his beard thoughtfully with his free hand, Thorin replied. “Aye, they were killed by Orcs led by a dragon, correct?”

“Not exactly,” Alaisia replied while shaking her head. “It is true that the Orcs there were under the command of a dragon, and that those Orcs killed many of their soldiers. However, Legolas’ kin and some of their soldiers were killed directly by the dragon. That dragon was Smaug, Thorin.”

Thorin gaped at her. “So when Thranduil warned us of what my grandfather’s greed would bring, he knew that there was an immediate threat,” Thorin realized. “We should have listened, and done more than we did to prepare ourselves against a dragon attack. Yet this makes me despise Thranduil even more! That he would not deign to help us against the very wyrm that caused so much catastrophe among his own people, that killed those he loved...”

Squeezing Thorin’s hand gently, Alaisia spoke. “I thought you would wish to know. I am sorry to upset you again...my reaction was very much the same when I found out.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Thorin replied. He released her hand as a Dwarf came by to collect plates, swiftly reclaiming it when the Dwarf had passed. Alaisia moved slightly closer to Thorin against the tree so that she was almost leaning into his side, and Thorin slipped an arm around her, releasing her hand in the process and pulling her closer against him.

“We have recovered some of our former strength, and we will someday return to Erebor and Dale,” Alaisia whispered as she leaned back into Thorin’s hold. Thorin nodded in assent, and the two sat unnoticed in silence for a few peaceful moments. Alaisia fought the urge to burrow into his side and drape an arm across his chest, trying to remind herself that now was not the proper time or place. _I should to tell him how I feel first, and make sure that I am not alone in my sentiments_.

In spite of herself, Alaisia was about to give into the temptation to rest her head against Thorin’s shoulder when music flared to life. Thorin withdrew his arm and stood, causing Alaisia to miss its warmth. She peeked around him, noticing Balin, Dwalin, and a few others playing a lively tune. Thorin gave a rare, full smile and extended a strong hand down to Alaisia.

“Will you dance with me?” he requested softly.

Alaisia took Thorin’s hand cautiously, and he helped her up. “I would love to, but I fear that your grandfather might protest.”

Thorin placed a hand on the small of her back, and led her forward to center of the square where others were already dancing. “Do not worry about my grandfather, Alaisia,” he assured her.

With that, the two began to dance to the rhythm. The song was a lively, cheery tune that sounded much like the music performers used to play at festivals in Dale. Gradually, Alaisia lost herself in the music, brimming with joy as she danced with Thorin.

Balin caught Alaisia’s eye as she was whirling around the square with Thorin and winked at her before whispering something to Dwalin. Shortly thereafter, the vibrant, energetic music was replaced with slower-paced, calmer music and the dancing pairs changed their movement accordingly. Alaisia paused, and stood still glancing around the square for a moment unsure what to do, until Thorin gently placed his hands at her waist.

“It is a slow dance now,” Thorin murmured. “We do not have to continue dancing if you do not wish to.”

In answer, Alaisia lifted her arms and wrapped them around Thorin’s neck gently, emulating the other dancers. Thorin smiled, and wrapped his arms around Alaisia’s waist more securely as they continued to dance.

The soothing rhythm of the music did much to assuage Alaisia’s nerves, and before long she had succumbed to the desire to rest her head upon Thorin’s shoulder, her forehead barely grazing his neck. He lowered his head slightly to brush his chin against her forehead. The two lingered in that position, swaying gently to the music, until Thorin pulled back slightly. Uncertainty laced his eyes.

“Alaisia, I -”

“Thorin!” A loud, aged voice thundered over the gathering. Alaisia broke away from Thorin hastily, jumping back like a startled deer. Thorin cursed under his breath, and turned to face his grandfather.

“Your presence is requested. You, your father, and I have much to discuss about the issue of the Orcs.”

All eyes turned to Thorin, with many noting Alaisia’s close proximity to him and the faint blush on the dwarrowdam’s face. Thorin gave Alaisia a quick apologetic look, and then turned back to his grandfather.

“I will go with you,” Thorin responded despondently.

With a satisfied smirk, Thror turned back away from the square as Thorin followed at his heels. The music resumed, and the couples returned to their dancing. Alaisia looked around quickly and fled the village center as discreetly as she could. Her parents had gone back to their cabin nearly an hour ago for they were weary, so Alaisia did not go there. Instead, her feet took her to the edge of the forest, where she leaned against a gnarled tree and cried.

_What was he about to say? That he loves me? That he only sees me as a friend? It matters not…his grandfather would never permit a relationship between Thorin and I, even if Thorin returned any of my feelings._

Another sob caused Alaisia to shudder, and she drew her knees up to rest her head upon them. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, and looked up, squinting through a curtain of tears.

“Lord Elrond?” Alaisia managed to choke out. She quickly stood, and tried to get her emotions under control only to succumb to another bout of tears. Elrond said nothing, but gently held Alaisia as she cried.

“What is the matter, child?” he asked as Alaisia’s tears subsided. “Is this about Thorin?”

Sighing, Alaisia nodded. “You followed me out here?”

“Of course. You should not be out here alone with the Orcs about, and I have already had to heal you once. Ideally, I would like for you to avoid a second near-death experience.”

Alaisia giggled. “I’m sorry. I just needed to get away…”

“You are in love with Thorin,” Elrond began, “but King Thror will do everything in his power to prevent you from confessing your feelings to him. Indeed, it appears that he will not even allow the two of you to dance.”

“Aye, that’s about the sum of it. And I do not know what to do about any of it. Not to mention that if I were to confess my feelings to Thorin, I would have to tell him about my Elven ancestry, and I have only slim hope that he would accept that part of me.”

“Slim hope is better than what you expressed to me before. I cannot tell you which course of action to follow, but I would tell you that the situation may not be as bleak as it seems. King Thror has more pressing matters on his hands at the moment than who his grandson may or may not be attracted to.”

“The Orcs,” Alaisia supplied. “You were speaking with the King and with Lord Thrain for quite some time. What are we to do?”

“Your King is bent on war to retake Moria, for it is held by the very Orcs who have been raiding east and west of the Misty Mountains. He does not want to go to war for the right reasons. He is still far too focused on pride and wealth, and I fear that the dragon-sickness has returned to him.”

Lord Elrond grimaced. “Nevertheless, I have pledged limited support. My soldiers will continue our hunts for Orc raiding parties and we will attack minor Orcish strongholds that have been established in the northern reaches of the Mountains. I will also assign soldiers to patrol the trade roads to ensure the safety of travelers.”

“But you will not pledge warriors directly to King Thror’s cause of taking back Moria,” Alaisia finished. “I do not blame you. The fight to reclaim Moria is not your fight. I am glad that you wish to do something quell the threat of the Orcs, though.”

“‘Twas not enough to satisfy your King, but he accepted my decision after Lord Thrain had a stern conversation with him. My wife, Celebrian, was attacked by Orcs in the Misty Mountains many years ago. She had to sail West to Valinor, for her wounds were too much to bear in this mortal world. I would be dishonoring her memory to utterly ignore the threat of Orcs coming from the mountains.”

Elrond paused for a moment, lost in thought, before turning back to Alaisia. “Come, let us return you safely to the village. Lingering out here will not help you.”

Alaisia nodded and trailed behind Lord Elrond, pondering what the coming days of war might hold.


	30. Farewell

Alaisia arose early the next morning, emerging just before dawn from her family’s humble cabin to begin her daily work. She rummaged through a storage bin to gather enough leather and binding to craft a set of armor. Immersed in her labor, Alaisia did not hear footsteps approach until they were right next to her, causing her to jump with surprise.

“Legolas, you should not sneak up on people like that! You know that we Dwarves do not have your Elven sense of hearing,” Alaisia chastised.

“Forgive me, I should have announced my presence since you are so intently focused on your work. What are you making?”

“There is nothing to forgive, my friend. You merely startled me. I am working on crafting a new set of armor - to be sold, of course, to either the Rohirrim or perhaps to the folk of Bree if we are bold enough to venture there again.”

“Beginning work again so soon after your return?” Legolas responded with concern.

“It is our means of making a living. In spite of its troubles, the Bree venture was still rather profitable, but that does not mean we can afford much of a vacation. Who knows - with the prospect of war on the Orcs, perhaps we will need to redirect our efforts to arming and clothing our own soldiers.”

Legolas nodded thoughtfully, and spoke again. “I came to bid you farewell, and to thank you for your friendship in Imladris. I greatly enjoyed the time that I spent with you.”

Alaisia sighed. “Thank you again for saving my life, and for becoming my friend thereafter. I am sorry to see you and the other Elves leave. Will you return to Imladris with Lord Elrond and company, or will you head directly home to the Greenwood?”

“I plan to ride south through the Gap of Rohan and ride north to home from there. The mountain passes are too treacherous to travel alone at the moment, I deem.” Pausing, he added “and there is no need for you to thank me for saving your life. It was the right thing to do - I could not bear to leave you when you were suffering and in need of aid.”

Smiling, Alaisia replied “May you have a safe journey home, my friend. I would ask that you write when you return safely, but that would not be well received here nor by your kin.”

Legolas laughed. “I am afraid that you are correct in that assumption. There is one more matter that I wished to address before I depart, however. I know that you and your fellow Dwarves desire to slay Smaug and reclaim your homeland. When you decide to do so, I will offer you whatever aid I can. I have a personal stake in the battle, after all, and I feel compelled to do something to make amends for my father’s despicable behavior to your people.”

“Your father would likely forbid it,” Alaisia noted.

“He might, but he does not command my heart. I give you my word that I will do what I deem to be right when the time comes. I have spent too long obeying his selfish commands and ignoring the problems of those beyond our borders.”

Alaisia’s heart soared at the prospect of receiving some aid against Smaug. “Thank you, Legolas, that is very noble of you. I am grateful for your offer of assistance. The day when we return to Erebor and Dale is probably many years away still, but perhaps if we can reclaim Moria from the Orcs our task will be easier.”

Bowing his head slightly in respect, Legolas placed a hand over his chest and then extended his arm outward. Alaisia mimicked his gesture, recognizing it as an Elven farewell. Legolas’ eyes lingered on Alaisia’s for a moment.

“Farewell, Alaisia,” Legolas whispered with a hint of sadness.

“Goodbye, Legolas. I shall see you again someday,” Alaisia replied.

Legolas smiled briefly before he departed to find his horse, leaving Alaisia to return to her work.

~~~

Thorin awoke a couple of hours after dawn, finally having managed to sleep for a few meager hours after yet another restless night. Nightmares about Alaisia’s fate had plagued his previous nights and chased away restful sleep. He thought, for that blessed period of time the previous day when he and Alaisia were happily in one another’s company once more, that he might finally find sleep easily again. The events of the previous night replayed in his head. Alaisia’s smile...her hand in his, and her head on his shoulder as they were dancing. That blissful, yet nerve-wracking, moment when he _finally_ felt confident enough to confess his feelings to her.

The pit that opened up in his stomach and swallowed all of his hopes as his grandfather unceremoniously ruined the evening.

_I must go speak to her, to see how she is doing and to tell her what happened last night. But I will not tell her what I was ready to tell her last night, for it would only do harm to her. Perhaps with time, my grandfather’s temper will ease or he will become distracted by the war with the Orcs._

After dressing in a simple navy tunic, pants, and boots, Thorin left his family’s cabin, careful not to disturb his still-sleeping relations. He set out for the Glavrem family cabin to see if Alaisia was awake as of yet. Upon approaching, he saw her bent over some leather-work, sweat beading on her brow.

_Focused on her work, as always_ , Thorin thought with a fond smile.

“Alaisia,” he called out softly. She turned to look at him with a broad grin, faltering somewhat upon seeing his exhaustion.

“Thorin,” she responded concernedly, “how are you?”

Thorin sat down at a work bench and motioned for Alaisia to join him. He placed an arm around her waist and Alaisia hesitated for a moment before melting into his touch, sliding one arm around him and leaning against his shoulder. Alaisia exhaled softly. _My grandfather frightened her last night_ , Thorin realized sadly as he held Alaisia gently and recalled her expression from the previous evening.

“I have been better,” Thorin answered Alaisia’s question truthfully. “My grandfather called me away to speak to me about what he had discussed with Lord Elrond and my father. We are going to war, Alaisia. We will raid Orc camps and strongholds as we find them and assault Moria after whittling away their strength. Moria seems to be the chief stronghold of the Orcs. Lord Elrond had intelligence from some Rangers of the North that the Orcs are under the command of a pale Orc named Azog and his son Bolg.”

“Foul names,” Alaisia muttered with disgust. “We shall overcome them. Will plans be announced today?”

“Aye, we spent a considerable amount of time drafting plans last night. The rest of my family is still asleep, but I arose to see how you were doing...”

“Honestly? A bit afraid of your grandfather. I could not sleep well, so I started working on this,” she gestured at the leather armor in progress.

“You are doing excellent work so far, just as you always do. As for my grandfather...I do not know what to do or say to appease him. My father is better suited to the task of managing him than I ever was.”

Alaisia snorted. “The only thing that will please the King is for you to marry Afara so that her father, Lord Stonehelm, will open up his coffers.”

“That will never happen, so my grandfather will have to yield on the matter eventually.” Thorin looked away to hide his pain, his fear that his grandfather would never yield, and saw a package tucked away on the ground under small table.

“What’s that?” He asked curiously.

“What’s what?” Alaisia responded with confusion before following Thorin’s line of sight to the package. “How strange, I did not see that there before now...”

Thorin went to retrieve it, and read a note placed with the package. He scowled briefly at the slip of paper before handing Alaisia the package.

“It is addressed to you, from Legolas,” Thorin muttered darkly.

_That woodland sprite feels something for Alaisia - I could sense it in his demeanor yesterday, how the pointy-eared prick kept glancing over at her, and this gift is further evidence. I only hope that Alaisia returns none of his feelings…she deserves a proper Dwarf, such as myself, not some thrice-accursed dainty Elf._

“How very odd,” Alaisia remarked, “he came by to say farewell this morning but made no mention of any gift.”

“Did he say anything else?” Thorin asked gruffly, subtly shifting closer to Alaisia.

“Yes,” Alaisia began, “he said that when the day comes for us to reclaim Erebor and Dale from Smaug, he would offer us aid, even if doing so requires rebellion against his father.”

Thorin snorted. “That was kind of him, but we will see if he really holds true to his word when we reach that day. Why don’t you go ahead and open the package? I am interested to see what is inside.”

Alaisia rolled her eyes at Thorin’s mistrust of Legolas before carefully opening the package. Inside the package lay a bundle of arrows, several dozen from a rough estimate, with a note and another package.

Beaming, Alaisia told Thorin “The note says that Legolas made these arrows himself, after the fashion of arrow-making in the Greenwood. These will serve me well in battle.”

“Aye, I believe they shall,” Thorin grudgingly admitted, for he knew that the skill of the Elves in crafting bows and arrows was unmatched. “I wonder how long it took him to make these?” Thorin pondered.

_How dare the blasted Elf give her such a personal gift?_

“There’s still another package inside,” Alaisia murmured as she moved to open it. Doing so revealed a quantity of glimmering silver metal, light as a feather to hold.

“Elven metal ingots!” Alaisia exclaimed with delight. “With these, and with the knowledge that I gleaned from observing the master smiths in Rivendell, I could craft swords that are as nearly as light as feathers to wield. I daresay there is enough for at least two swords here, perhaps more if I am careful. What a wonderful surprise,” she softly murmured.

In spite of his concerns over Legolas’ intentions, Thorin found himself grinning at Alaisia’s excitement over the gift. She deserved this happiness, for such joy came too rarely to her these days.

“I hope that you do not plan to sell those swords - this is an impressive gift, and you seldom do things for yourself.”

“Of course not!” Alaisia replied, a bit indignant at the suggestion that she would sell such a precious resource.

She arose, and retrieved a piece of charcoal along with parchment for sketching before sitting down again with Thorin. Thorin watched as she furiously scribbled design ideas for swords on the paper. Thorin noticed that the evolving design appeared to be a fusion of Dwarven and Elven style; a union of her crafting expertise with the material she was given. His usual disdain for all things even remotely Elvish faded somewhat as he watched Alaisia intently perfect her concept for the swords. Casually, he slipped an arm around her waist again, and he grinned in satisfaction when Alaisia hummed happily and shifted closer to him.

The contentment of the pair was abruptly disrupted as familiar heavy footsteps approached.

“Thorin!” King Thror barked. “We have war preparations to attend to.” Thorin, startled, arose from the bench immediately. Alaisia’s gaze lifted to his before dropping sorrowfully.

“I’m sorry,” Thorin whispered. Alaisia nodded imperceptibly to avoid the gesture’s notice by the King. Thorin left reluctantly with his grandfather and father.

~~~

Alaisia continued her work after Thorin left, finalizing her design for the twin swords that she would craft. One was to be hers, and the other she planned to give to Thorin.

_Best to see how well he receives a rather Elven-style sword before I confess my ancestry to him_ , Alaisia thought wryly. Another design was also sketched on the paper: small, hesitant, a fragment of a dream, but still there. The design was of a ring combining Thorin and Alaisia’s house sigils.

_Perhaps one day, he will wear it and we can be together,_ Alaisia thought longingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whether or not Legolas actually feels any affection beyond friendship for Alaisia is debatable. It is quite fun to write a jealous/slightly grumpy Thorin though :)


	31. Prelude to War

At noon, King Thror summoned all Dwarves in the settlement to the village square for a mandatory assembly. Rumors of impending war had already begun stirring among Thror’s people, so a large crowd gathered swiftly. Their murmurs ceased as Thror cleared his throat to address his people.

“My fellow Dwarves,” he solemnly began, “I believe that many of you already know why you have been brought here today. The activity of Orcs in the area has risen of late, such that we can no longer linger idly in this village under the pretense of peace. I have heard reports from Lord Elrond Halfelven of Orcish activity in the northern reaches of the Misty Mountains and from King Fréaláf Hildeson of Rohan of Orcs plundering at the southern edge of the Misty Mountains. Not long ago, these Orcs had the audacity to attack our own people, here in this village. Now is the time to wage war against these abominable creatures.”

The crowd began whispering, some expressing anger at the Orcs and others evincing fear, causing Thror to raise his hand in a gesture for silence.

“There is no need for fear, and for those of you brave and daring enough I have a task. To wage war effectively we must know our enemy. We currently do not know the numbers of the Orcs or the precise location of their strongholds. Thus, we will begin with scouting missions. Volunteers will be assigned to squadrons and dispatched to search specific regions of the Misty Mountains. If we fail to receive adequate volunteers we will initiate a draft. Are there any questions?”

Silence fell over the crowd. King Thror nodded curtly and departed the square. Thrain stepped forward to address the audience.

“All of you who wish to defend our people against the scourge of the Orcs, and to pave the way to the reclamation of our ancient homeland of Khazad-dum which the Orcs now defile, should make your way to Fundin to regsiter your name for service. We are not in this fight alone. The Elves have promised to keep the Orcs to in the North at bay, and envoys were sent this very morning to leaders of every Dwarven house.”

Thrain stepped back, and watched with a satisfied smile as a mass of Dwarves surged forward to volunteer. Alaisia and her parents moved to join the Dwarves gathering to volunteer, but a hand on Alaisia’s arm caused her to pause.

“Thorin!” Alaisia exclaimed, “you quite startled me. I was making my way over to Fundin to volunteer for the scouting campaigns.”

“Aye, I knew that you would,” Thorin said with a fond chuckle. Smile faltering, he cleared his throat and continued. “I wanted to find you before my grandfather hunts me down again. I am afraid that we will not be seeing much of each other, Alaisia. My grandfather is taking it upon himself to assign Dwarves to scouting groups, and he wants me at his side constantly. I will try to visit you when I can, but I fear it will not be easy to slip his notice. Look behind me to my left.”

Alaisia did as told, her eyes following the line Thorin described. They fell on four armed guards, each staring intently at her.

“My prince,” one of them said, “your grandfather requests your presence.”

Thorin cursed.

Alaisia shifted closer to Thorin. “Your grandfather put you under armed guard? He cannot make you a prisoner - you are heir to the throne,” she hissed.

Wincing, Thorin replied. “There is no throne, not until Moria is reclaimed. And my grandfather is bent on ensuring that I acquiesce to his wish that I wed Lady Afara.”

Mentally, Thorin added _meaning he will not let me spend time with you_.

Moisture brimmed in Alaisia’s eyes briefly before they flashed with anger. She moved to hug him tightly, noting the way the guards’ hands shifted toward their sword hilts as she did so.

“We’ll find ways to visit each other, Thorin,” she whispered defiantly in his ear, her lips almost grazing his skin.

He nodded imperceptibly and reluctantly released her. Alaisia glared at the guards and then strode off to add her name to the list of volunteers. Thorin sighed and turned to follow his guards, but Balin and Dwalin walked up to him.

“We’ll see to it that the prince makes it to his grandfather promptly,” Balin said to the guards with a charismatic smile. “There’s no need for your assistance, but you are welcome to follow at a distance if you deem it necessary.”

The guards looked at each other, then back at Balin and nodded. They took up position several yards behind Balin, Dwalin, and Thorin as the trio walked to meet Thror.

“You should have told the lass you love her earlier, Thorin. I think she returns your feelings and you could have avoided this whole mess,” Dwalin muttered as he made an obscene gesture toward the guards.

“That’s not helpful,” Balin admonished. “I’m not sure that anything would have changed Thror’s mind on the matter. Once he decided he needed access to Lord Stonehelm’s wealth, he was set on Thorin here marrying Lady Afara.”

“What are you two up to?” Thorin muttered defeatedly. “The situation seems rather without remedy at this point. I don’t even know how to spend time with Alaisia at this point, much less tell her that I love her. My grandfather’s madness for gold - for that is all this whole ridiculous situation is about - has no bounds. What if he decides to banish Alaisia? To hurt her or her family? I cannot risk anything.”

“So, you’re going to marry Afara then?” Dwalin asked pointedly.

Thorin growled and began to storm ahead in frustration only to be stopped by Balin stepping in front of him.

“Obviously, you do not wish to do that,” Balin calmly intoned. “That is why we are here to help you. I shall think of something, and Dwalin will help as well. Your guards are not overly enthused about their position. We can probably distract them every now and then so that you can speak with Alaisia. As long as you do not initiate any kind of romantic attachment for the time being, you should and Alaisia should both be safe.”

“Aye, if anyone tries to harm her they’ll have me to answer to. I love that lass like a little sister,” Dwalin rumbled. “And Thorin, if I ever see you acting this weak and despondent again, I’ll cuff yer head to knock some sense into it.”

Thorin feigned an indignant look for a moment before clapping both of his cousins gratefully on the shoulder. “Thank you, I appreciate your help.”

“Nothing is ever without hope,” Balin replied with a twinkle in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I didn't originally plan for Thror to develop into a "villain" of sorts with regard to Thorin and Alaisia's relationship...it just ended up logically following from his continued struggle with the dragon-sickness. This week's updates will feature events during the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs. As a disclaimer, the timeline for this conflict in my fanfiction doesn't align with the book-canon timeline as I decided to have it take place earlier and last for a shorter span of time. Thanks as always for reading! I'll be back with another update tomorrow.


	32. The War of the Dwarves and the Orcs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point they are approximately a year or so into the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs. I decided to skip through the earlier portion of the war as I did not want to write an excessive number of battle scenes - I'd rather focus on interactions between the characters and move the story closer to Azanulbizar and the events that unfold thereafter.

Alaisia crouched under the cover of a large shrub, peering through its leaves at a rather mediocre Orc encampment. Several Orcs were drinking - probably grog, Alaisia realized with disgust - while others were squabbling among themselves. The rest were lolling about, utterly unaware of the group of Dwarves encroaching on their position. Only one stood guard over the camp - but it left itself unguarded.

_Those imbeciles never seem to learn_.

Shifting slightly, Alaisia drew her Elven bow. An arrow swiftly departed it, landing squarely in the chest of the Orc guard who looked rather surprised for a moment before he fell. The Orcs stared dumbly at each other before gathering their weapons. Alaisia leaped out from the cover of the shrub, and the rest of her company charged forward with her. The battle was swiftly won, for these Orcs were rather incompetent fighters, and their numbers were not great.

“Well, that was easy,” Frerin remarked to Alaisia with a cocky grin. “I see why my father granted you a captainship and a company of your own.”

“Much to the displeasure of your grandfather,” Alaisia remarked thoughtfully, “but I suppose he hates the Orcs more than he hates me, at least for now. At any rate, taking on encampments such as this does not require any special skill. Sometimes, I almost pity the Orcs. Their stupidity knows no bounds...”

The pair turned to see Drayli walking toward them, carefully cleaning his sword with a spare cloth.

“You do know that your sword is just going to get dirty again, right?” Frerin teased.

Drayli rolled his eyes. “For a prince, you have rampant disregard for the condition of your possessions.”

Alaisia chuckled at the two. _If Drayli is ever allowed to propose to Dis, I’m certain that he will fit in perfectly with their family. Frerin and Drayli already treat each other like they are brothers_.

She walked away from the two to search the bodies of the Orcs for any information on other encampments. It was December of 2786, and it seemed as if they were finally getting closer to routing or destroying all of the minor Orc camps they had found. They had come across and raided a few strongholds, but these were surprisingly ill-occupied. Alaisia knew in her heart that the Orcs must be withholding the majority of their strength for the final battle.

“Find anything new?” Frerin asked.

“No,” Alaisia muttered. “I keep hoping to find information on army movements, supplies, _something_ to give us more information on the enemy’s plans. I fear what we will find when we march to take back Khazad-dum next month. The Orcs are capable of more than what we are currently seeing – I know that from the ambush I faced with Drayli and the others on our way back from Bree – and I think that they are attempting to bait us into a larger battle before we are ready.”

“There is nothing to fear. The Ironfists, Blacklocks, Stonefoots, Stiffbeards, and Dain Ironfoot’s army from the Iron Hills are all coming to help us at Azanulbizar. We can take on any army we meet,” Frerin boldy asserted.

“You are quite confident,” Drayli mused. “I think it is too early to say how we shall fare. I wish we could have gotten aid from the Broadbeams and Firebeards as well...”

“Aye, so do I, but they have just recently begun to recover well from that earthquake. They cannot be expected to join our fight,” Alaisia said.

The company trekked back to the village where Alaisia was greeted eagerly by her parents.

“Welcome home, _nathith_ ,” Thila said as she wrapped her daughter in a warm hug. Morak hugged Alaisia too before speaking.

“The King is making an address soon in the village square. Something about plans for the final assault on the Orcs at Khazad-dum, apparently,” Morak said.

The three made their way to the village square, followed closely by Drayli and the other members of Alaisia’s company. Frerin made his way to the front of the crowd to join his family. King Thror stood at the front of the mass of Dwarves with Thorin and Thrain to either side. As Frerin approached, Thror beamed and clapped his hands on his grandson’s shoulders.

“Here is my youngest grandson,” the King announced proudly, “just returned from what will be our final battle before the march on Azanulbizar next month.”

“Final battle?” Alaisia whispered to her parents. “We have not cleared all of the camps yet! I thought that you two were leading an attack in a few days against an Orc camp.”

“The King is impatient,” Morak replied with a grimace, “as he wishes to reclaim the wealth of Moria.”

“He dreams of a mithril throne,” Thila added. “In all likelihood his greed shall just bring another dragon down upon us.”

“Or more Orcs than we would otherwise have to face, if we finished this campaign properly and found their real strongholds,” Alaisia remarked dryly.

Thror continued his address. “There will be no more raids upon Orc camps, nor any further searches for hidden strongholds. We have sufficiently weakened our foe. Now, we must look to our own defenses. I hereby order that all weapons and armor production be redirected toward outfitting our army for the final assault on the Orcs.”

Murmurs broke out among the crowd, some of excitement and others of anger at being forced to give up all profitable crafting work. Raising his hand, Thror spoke over the murmurs. “Not all soldiers will march on Azanulbizar. Some shall be ordered to stay here, in the village, to defend our people.”

Alaisia tensed. _I understand that defending the village is noble and necessary, but I fear that we may already be stretched thin in the assault on Azanulbizar_.

King Thror gave the list to Thorin, gesturing for him to read out the names of those mandated to stay behind. Thorin read all of the names without a pause until he came to one. He blinked, and cleared his throat briefly before glancing at his grandfather. His grandfather raised his eyebrows, and Thorin returned his gaze with a fleeting glare before reading the name.

“The Glavrem family,” Thorin announced. His gaze swept over the crowd before resting on Alaisia, who gave the slightest of nods before departing the crowd. Her parents followed close behind.

“Alaisia,” Thila called when they were some distance away, “surely you are not angry with Thorin?”

“Of course I am not angry with Thorin!” Alaisia shouted indignantly. “He is a victim of his grandfather’s manipulations. You saw the look on Thror’s face. Thror wants us to stay behind because he knows of our family’s connection to Azanulbizar. He doesn’t want us to help reclaim a place that was so important to our family’s history, and he especially does not want me to be anywhere near Thorin.”

She huffed, and sat down on a nearby tree stump. Morak came and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I fear you are right, _nathith_ , but there is nothing to be done for it. If we disobey the King, we risk much more than we stand to gain. We must stay, and defend our village if need be.”

_Perhaps they are right, but I will not stand for this. I will fight to help reclaim my ancestors’ home, I will fight because I have earned a place in that final battle, and I will fight alongside Thorin because I love him, even if I must disguise myself_.

Saying none of this, Alaisia sighed and responded. “It seems there are not many options.”

Thila came over and offered a hand to her daughter.

“Come, _nathith_ , let us get back to our workshop. We have much work to do in the next few weeks. Perhaps you can take some time to finish those swords that you have been working on?”

Alaisia had made intermittent progress on the twin blades, Deathless and Dauntless, and had only minor details to complete. The ring she had sketched was complete already, an intricately patterned metal band that included the raven of Thorin’s house and a simplified depiction of the Doors of Durin that formed her house sigil. It lay in Alaisia’s nightstand, on a chain and wrapped in cloth. Not even her parents knew of its existence yet, although they did know their daughter’s heart regarding the Dwarf prince.

The Glavrem family began their work, with Alaisia choosing to finish a set of armor before resuming her efforts on the swords. Alaisia’s parents went inside to take a break for lunch while she kept working on the armor, eager to complete it to make time to finish her personal project. Footsteps approached, and Alaisia turned to see a familiar face.

“Thorin,” she whispered, a sad smile on her face. She looked behind him, puzzled. “No guards?”

Thorin moved forward and embraced Alaisia, pulling her close against him and nuzzling her head softly with his chin. “I managed to escape them for a short while. They will be looking for me so I do not have long.” He stepped back. “I needed to find you and tell you that I did not know of my grandfather’s decision. I argued with him, as did my father, but he will not change his mind. He claims it is because the village cannot afford to lose some of its most skilled artisans...”

“I knew it was not your fault, Thorin,” Alaisia murmured as she drew back and rested a hand on his arm.

“He refuses to let Dis fight too, even though she is quite competent. I know how much this battle meant to you, Alaisia. I would not blame you for disobeying my grandfather’s orders, but you must leave me out of your decision. I’ll try to visit you again before I leave for the battle, if I am able to.”

With that, Thorin slipped away, and Alaisia’s heart fell at their predicament.


	33. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter, but I'm posting 2 more chapters tomorrow and one on Friday to make up for it! I hope that you enjoy reading it.

On a frigid January evening in 2787, Alaisia drew her fur-rimmed cloak tightly around herself as her teeth chattered stubbornly in the frigid winter air. _This is absolutely_ brilliant _timing for us to march off to the largest battle of the war_.

She huddled next to the wooden wall behind her and gently fiddled with the necklace that she wore. Shortly after her last conversation with Thorin, she had begun wearing the ring she made for him around her neck; in a way, it made her feel closer to him, although she did take ample care to conceal the ring from prying eyes. The armies were to begin their march off to Azanulbizar the next day, but Balin and Dwalin had managed to arrange a final meeting between Alaisia and Thorin.

Alaisia heard footsteps crunching in the soft dusting of snow and frost that covered the ground and turned to see Thorin. Setting her package down for a moment, Alaisia beamed and hugged Thorin. He returned the embrace before stepping back.

“I am glad that we were able to see each other one last time before the battle,” Thorin whispered, “although I fear that we do not have long.”

“That’s fine,” Alaisia whispered sadly. Bending, she leaned down and retrieved the package. She handed it to Thorin.

“Open it,” Alaisia urged.

Thorin deftly discarded the wrapping material, revealing a sheathed sword. He drew the blade from its leather sheath and examined it in wonder.

“The sword that you sketched,” he breathed, “it is truly magnificent. Dwarven, yet also Elven and light from the material. You are a genuine artist, Alaisia. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, my friend,” Alaisia beamed. “Yours is called Deathless. Its twin, Dauntless, I kept for myself.”

Thorin smiled, and appeared about to say something when a stern voice called out his name in the distance. Footsteps began marching toward their vicinity from the source of the noise.

“Blasted guards,” Thorin muttered angrily as he sheathed his sword. “I must go, but thank you for this mighty gift. I will see you again soon, after the battle,” he murmured with a hint of sorrow as he turned to leave.

A hand on his arm halted him. Alaisia looked at him, a slightly wild expression on her face. Her features softened. She moved closer to Thorin and wrapped her arms around him again.

“Thank me for the sword by staying alive, Thorin, and come back to me,” she whispered in his ear. She withdrew from his arms, giving him a swift kiss on his cheek as she did so.

Stunned, Thorin looked at Alaisia for a moment before Alaisia turned and fled to avoid notice by the coming guards.

~~~

Thorin sat at his small desk, staring intently at a piece of parchment with the light of a candle. Deliberately, carefully, he picked up a quill and began to write.

_My dearest Alaisia,_

_I do not know if you plan to join the battle tomorrow, or if I shall ever see you again, but I need to tell you of my feelings for you. If I do not return, I hope that you will find and read this. I should have told you tonight, when you gave me that sword, as I should have told you countless other times before._

_I love you, Alaisia, with all of my heart. I always have._

_With much love,_

_Thorin_

~~~

Alaisia placed two notes delicately near the door before she left her home in the morning. The first was addressed to her parents, informing them of her decision to go fight in disguise at Azanulbizar. They of course suspected as much, but she did not want to formally tell them beforehand so as to protect them from Thror’s wrath.

The second letter she left in case she did not return. It was addressed to Thorin. Alaisia carefully concealed the necklace with the ring she made for Thorin beneath her armor before putting on her helm and departing her house.


	34. Strife on the Eve of Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin overhears a tense conversation and loses his temper over Thror's dragon-sickness.

The march to Azanulbizar was long and miserable due to the frigid winter air. Thror strode purposefully ahead, focused solely on the immense wealth that would come into his possession if the campaign were to prove a success, while Thrain made efforts to keep morale up among the troops. Thorin and Frerin stayed at Thrain’s side. Alaisia remained hidden near the back of the army, as far away as possible from the notice of commanding officers and the royal family.

On the eve of the battle, Thror’s army rendezvoused with the other Dwarven armies and made camp a short march from Azanulbizar. As sleep refused to come to him, Thorin paced back and forth in his tent, running his hand through his hair in distress as his mind returned to his last meeting with Alaisia.

_I should have gone to her, I should have said something instead of just standing there like a bloody fool! What if she thinks that I do not feel the same way?_ He paused. _What if I’m making too much of her kiss? It was just a peck on the cheek – it could mean nothing. Perhaps she is here, hidden somewhere in disguise. She never told me whether she planned to fight anyway..._

Thorin left his tent and put his cloak on as a shield against the bitter cold. He looked around the camp, uncertain as to where, or how, he might find Alaisia if she were here. Seeing a light on in his grandfather’s tent, he walked quietly over to the side. Aggravated voices emanated from within.

“I will NOT allow this,” Thrain fumed. “He is my son, not yours, and I will not allow you to force him into a marriage that he has clearly expressed distaste toward. He loves Alaisia, not Afara.”

Thror huffed. “The deal is already done. I have used some of Lord Stonehelm’s gold to pay expenses for this very campaign. Thorin must wed Afara per the agreement. It is a good match anyway. You cannot seriously think that wench Alaisia makes a suitable bride for the crown prince! I agree with Afara - perhaps we should send Alaisia to a brothel somewhere, or otherwise exile her.”

Thorin barged into the tent, tensing as his blood boiled in anger.

“Thorin,” Thrain began cautiously. Thorin raised up a hand as a gesture for silence.

“You coward,” Thorin spat out at his grandfather, “you have treated me more like a prisoner than like your own grandson - your own flesh and blood - these past months. How dare you now disparage the woman I love, Alaisia Glavrem, and dictate a marriage that I never consented to? How dare you suggest that Alaisia be sent to a _brothel_ somewhere? I will not wed Afara. I will have no part in this. Per Dwarven law, you cannot force me into this arrangement.”

Thror scowled. “How dare you speak to me in this manner? Ungrateful whelp, to be listening in on a private conversation. Since you have been so attentive, you know that the deal is done. If you renege upon the agreement Lord Stonehelm will withdraw his support.”

Thorin scoffed. “I hardly deem it to be a private conversation when it involves my future. I do not care about the consequences of reneging because I never agreed to anything - if Lord Stonehelm fails to understand that then that is your problem, or his, but it is not my problem. I’m done with you,” he bitterly muttered.

With that, Thorin turned and stormed out of the tent, his senses still clouded by rage. His father followed.

“Are you here to reprimand me, father?” Thorin grumbled.

Thrain pulled his son into a hug. “No, _inùdoy_ , I am not. Your grandfather was never truly freed from the dragon-sickness. He simply cannot see what he used to love, be that you, myself, or Dis and Frerin.”

Memories flooded Thorin of his grandfather during the early days of the dragon sickness, and of his grandfather before the dragon sickness consumed him. A happy man, a grandfather of three, kind to his grandchildren and always full of wisdom...yet now utterly unrecognizable.

“Father...” Thorin’s voice broke. “Is Grandfather really gone? Is there nothing we can do to change his mind or to break this madness?”

“I do not know, _inùdoy_. I fear that he may be too far gone.” Thrain sighed. Regardless, “you will not have to wed Afara. I give you my word that you shall marry for love or not at all.”

Thorin nodded, feeling numb. His father pressed a small object into his hand.

“One of the Rings of the Seven Dwarves?” Thorin inhaled sharply in surprise. “But you have always worn it...”

“The heir to the throne wears it, lad,” Thrain responded. “I have worn it long enough. I wish for you to wear it now.”

“Thank you,” Thorin whispered as he slipped the ring on slowly, uncertain if he was worthy to bear it as of yet.

Thrain hugged his son again. “I love you, son, and I am proud of the man that you have become. Don’t wait too long to tell Alaisia of your true feelings.”

“I love you too, _Adad_ ,” Thorin replied softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update again tonight with the Battle of Azanulbizar!  
> Translations:  
> inùdoy = son  
> Adad = father


	35. The Battle of Azanulbizar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dwarves fight a desperate battle in an attempt to reclaim Moria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some descriptions of violence

Alaisia awoke early the morning of the battle and choked down a portion of the gritty porridge prepared for the rank-and-file. She moved to put her helm back on to avoid notice but was stopped by a sudden hand on her shoulder.

“Captain?” Drayli asked with a small smile. Alaisia slipped her helm on.

“Drayli,” she responded with a laugh. “You really scared me there for a second.”

“I will not tell anyone that I saw you here,” Drayli reassured her.

“You can’t follow me into battle either,” Alaisia warned. “I’m masquerading as an ordinary soldier.”

“Aye, I understand, though I wish it were not so,” Drayli said with a sigh. “It is not fair – you worked so hard to earn your title of captain in the engagements leading up to this. None of the other captains were ordered to remain at home.”

Alaisia sighed. “Our King doesn’t have a personal vendetta against the other captains. The other Dwarves are starting to wake up now, so I’d better go and hide myself in the crowd somewhere. I am glad to have seen you before the battle, Drayli. Be careful out there - Dis will not be happy if you get yourself hurt,” Alaisia cautioned him.

Drayli blushed from his beard to his brow at the mention of Dis. “I will be careful,” he replied. “You be careful as well - does Thorin know that you are here?”

“I would not put him in that position. I am disobeying orders from the Crown by being here, and he is the heir to that crown. I’ll see you on the other side, Drayli,” Alaisia whispered softly as she clasped his shoulder in farewell.

“See you on the other side,” Drayli replied.

~~~

The Dwarven armies climbed to higher ground, drawing nearer to the Gate at Azanulbizar. They came to a rocky plateau and stopped. In front of them, spread across the craggy and barren landscape, were legions of Orcs. Dark banners with crude markings rose above their ranks. An unusually massive pale Orc stood at the front of the army.

_It is as I feared. They have conserved their strength, siphoning off only the necessary amount of Orcs to slow us down_ , Alaisia thought worriedly.

Thror seemed about ready to make a speech when a wild-haired young Dain Ironfoot impatiently charged forward wielding his double-bladed axe. He roared out a battle cry that the other Dwarves responded to with cries of “Baruk Khazad! Khazad ai Menu” as they charged after the young Dwarf lord.

Alaisia drew her new sword, Dauntless, and charged into battle. _At least if I die, Thorin might now have some inkling of how I feel. May Mahal protect us all._

A deafening clash of metal signaled to Alaisia that the front of their army had met the Orcs. Gradually, their formations loosened, and the two armies became entangled. Alaisia charged forward and found herself face to face with an Orc. It swung at her head, but she ducked and plunged Dauntless into its chest. Grunting, she pulled her sword out and spun to dispatch another Orc.

Chaos consumed the battlefield as more Orcs poured out from the pits of Moria to replace those that the Dwarves managed to slay. Their numbers seemed unending. Some of the Orcs used flaming arrows, causing fleeting brushfires in areas of the plateau where vegetation had managed to emerge in the forbidding landscape. In spite of the season, air on the battlefield became warm and oppressive. Alaisia shed her helm to improve her visibility and to ward off the threatening heat of the battle.

_After all, it is a bit too late for Thror to send me away now._

She charged at an Orc, taking it by surprise and swiftly killing it with a slash to its throat. Another charged behind her and went for her arm, grazing an unarmored portion of her left elbow. Alaisia winced and stepped back. As the Orc raised its sword high, she saw an opening and seized it, driving her sword into the Orc’s flank. It fell with a subsequent blow to the head.

Pausing to catch her breath, Alaisia scanned the battlefield. Some distance away, at an elevated position, a familiar dark-haired figure was hacking away at several Orcs. The glimmer of Elven metal shone from his blade.

“Thorin,” Alaisia whispered. “Deathless is serving him well, it seems.” She looked at her own sword, shining although darkened by the blood of many Orcs, and grinned at the thought of her and Thorin battling with twin blades.

Thorin, having defeated his aggressors, turned and saw Alaisia in the crowd below. Before he could react, the pale Orc that had been at the head of the army earlier appeared. It roared and began a determined charge toward Thorin. Alaisia growled in rage and struggled to make her way toward Thorin, but she found herself blocked by a mass of Dwarves and Orcs locked in combat in front of her. One Orc kicked Alaisia from behind, but it was swiftly killed by a familiar face.

“Frerin!” Alaisia exclaimed. “I’m trying to reach Thorin-”

“Me too,” Frerin shouted, “You hold these Orcs off.”

“Frerin, no. It is too dangerous! I will go to Thorin. You’ll be safer back here.”

“He is my brother – let me go to him. Trust me, Alaisia, and watch my back.”

Alaisia reluctantly nodded her assent and watched anxiously as Frerin disappeared into the mass of Dwarves and Orcs. She followed after him as best she could, fending off any Orcs that attempted to give chase to the young prince.

King Thror’s voice rang out. “Thorin!” He called as he pushed forward toward the pale Orc and his grandson, his expression wild with fear. Thror shoved Thorin out of harm’s way, causing Thorin to roll down the slope and away from the conflict.

The King and the pale Orc stood facing one another for a moment before the Orc charged forward with a snarl. Thror drew his sword and made a stab at the Orc but missed. A second strike barely grazed the Orc’s flesh as it turned to avoid the blow. As the Orc turned, it reached out and grabbed Thror.

The Orc roared to get the attention of his armies. The Dwarves stopped fighting, looking over to see the King of the Longbeards in the grip of the Orc. An eerie, crude chant arose among the Orcs.

“Azog! Azog!” Shouts of the pale Orc’s name filled the air. Thorin rose and shifted so as to run toward his grandfather, but then stopped as he heard a cry behind him.

“Thorin!” came the voice of his brother, Frerin. Another pale Orc, similar in bearing to the first but younger, had Frerin in his grasp. Thorin reflexively ran to reach his brother but turned when he heard a shout of pain and a sickening crunch. The pale Orc, Azog, had beheaded the King. He tossed the dismembered head toward Thorin, and the Orcs cheered.

Another cry of pain came behind him, and Thorin turned to see his little brother impaled on the sword of the younger pale Orc.

“Frerin!” He roared with heartbreak. It was too late to save the young Dwarf. A swarm of Dwarves obscured Thorin’s sight as they charged the Orc that had slain Frerin, and other Orcs rushed into the fray chanting “Bolg!”.

“Durin,” growled Azog. A clear line lay between Thorin and Azog. Thorin made the charge.

The two fought, neither gaining the upper hand, until a well-timed strike by Azog knocked the shield out of Thorin’s hand. Another blow sent Thorin reeling and rolling down the slope once more.

A thump against Alaisia’s armor forced her to turn and face the Orc that menaced her. Snarling with anger, and with grief at the death of Frerin, she beheaded the Orc and watched with satisfaction as a stream of blood burst forth with the blow. She looked up and around in an effort to reorient herself. Thrain was leading a charge at the edge of the plateau against a mass of Orcs that were stationed there. More Orcs were still swarming forth from the gate. At last Alaisia’s eyes landed again on Thorin.

Thorin stood with a weathered oak branch, wielding it as a shield. Azog slammed his mace against the branch and Thorin swiftly ducked before slashing the Orc’s wrist with his blade. The motion allowed him to sever one of the Orc’s hands. Azog howled in pain.

“I will kill you, and I will kill Bolg soon after,” Thorin roared. He plunged Deathless into the heart of the pale Orc, twisted it, and withdrew it before putting it between Azog’s eyes for good measure. He used his armored boot to push the corpse of Azog off of his sword. Thorin glanced around the battlefield wildly, not seeing Alaisia this time, and held Deathless aloft.

“Du Bekar!” He shouted above the noise of battle. “Azog is vanquished. Now we reclaim Moria!”

Thorin charged with his oak branch and his sword toward the gate. Many Dwarves swarmed to follow him while others stayed back to fend off Orcs on the plateau. Alaisia burst into a sprint to join the charge.

The Dwarves fought long and hard against the Orcs, losing many more good soldiers but steadily depleting the Orcs’ numbers. After several hours of fighting, the remnants of the Orcs led by Bolg fled back into the depths of Moria. A few Dwarves chased them inside, only to run back out with ashen faces. They gibbered in fright about a strange noise and the sudden ignition of a great flame in the distance. Whispers of Durin’s Bane spread among the crowd.

After some discussion, the Dwarves’ resignedly turned away from the gates, seeking to prevent further loss. The battle against the Orcs was won, but Moria would not yet be reclaimed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thror broke through the dragon-sickness one last time to save his grandson! We'll see how Thorin deals with the aftermath of the battle in the next chapter...


	36. Betrayal and Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin struggles to cope with the aftermath of Azanulbizar.

After the battle, the weary Dwarves began their efforts to gather the dead. The rocky outcropping rendered burial there impossible, and the lengthy trek home for all Dwarven houses involved meant that burial at home would be impractical. Thus, the Dwarves began piling their dead into funeral pyres and gathering kindling for the flames.

While the Dwarves decimated the Orcish army, their losses were substantial and painful to endure. Few among them felt as if they had achieved a meaningful victory. Among the dead were many members of the royal families of Erebor and the Iron Hills, including Thror, Frerin, Fundin, Groin, and Nain. Thrain’s body did not rest on the plateau, nor did Thrain wander on it; indeed, he seemed to have disappeared entirely. His surviving son refused to stop looking.

Alaisia exhaled a sigh of sorrow as she found Thorin searching the piles of dead bodies for any sign of Thrain. She approached Thorin cautiously, for he had a frantic and grief-stricken disposition that caused him to resemble a wild animal pacing to and fro.

“Thorin,” she called out softly, her heart heavy with the knowledge of his losses.

Thorin halted, a scowl appearing on his face, and turned to face her.

“You!” Thorin bellowed, stomping over Orc corpses to reach Alaisia.

Alaisia flinched inwardly, but she held her ground.

“Why, in Durin’s name, came you to this slaughter? You were commanded to remain in Dunland to help guard the village. How dare you disobey that order? You could have been killed here!” Thorin roared.

Alaisia’s steely blue eyes met Thorin’s wrathful eyes. “I came to fight for a cause that I believed in.”

“And look where that cause led us,” Thorin spat out. “Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of our already scarce people dead, and no ancestral homeland reclaimed. We are no closer to reclaiming Erebor or Dale. There was no reason for you to be here. You had no business here. You should leave now and go back to the village.”

Huffing, Alaisia responded. “I am a skilled warrior, I was granted a captainship, and I belonged here on the battlefield where I could be of use. Beyond that, I am more than capable of looking after myself and of making my own decisions,” Alaisia finished coolly.

“You may have _some_ skill, but that skill is better put to use in the settlement, guarding against the Dunlendings, as you were ordered!” Thorin shouted.

_Some skill? The nerve of that Dwarf!_ Alaisia thought. _But he is not himself now, and I did not come to him for an argument. He is riven by grief – his grandfather, father, and brother all lost in one battle_.

Alaisia felt some compassion seep past the indignity she felt at Thorin’s reaction. Anger would not help him regain his senses.

Alaisia gently murmured “Thorin, you are not yourself. You have suffered a great loss-”

Thorin would not suffer her to finish. “Loss? What do you know of loss?” he said in a dangerously low voice.

He approached Alaisia, stopping inches away from her. Alaisia continued to meet his stare without flinching. “Thorin-” she whispered as she reached for his shoulder.

Thorin slapped her hand away, causing Alaisia to step back in alarm and wince slightly with the sting. She opened her mouth as if to speak again, then shut it promptly as she saw Thorin’s eyes darken.

“No! I will not hear another word out of you. You know nothing of loss. Your entire family is healthy and alive. The business of your parents is a cornerstone of our settlement. You have lost _nothing_ since the Dragon’s attack. The Glavrem family remains prosperous and united,” Thorin roared, nearly spitting out the last words.

Alaisia felt tears - of pain, sorrow, and indignation - well in her eyes. _Lost nothing? I lost my home, just as he. Haldan, more family than friend, perished in the firestorm that ravaged Dale. Along with my parents, I have been driven into exile. His grandfather treated me like common trash ever since I returned from Imladris. And I have lost nothing? Suffered nothing?_ Alaisia thought wrathfully.

Before Alaisia could find the words to speak, Thorin spoke again.

“Leave. Get out of my sight. I have no wish for further conversation with you. I have far more important matters to attend to than a common Dwarf,” Thorin muttered, turning his back and returning to his search for Thrain.

_We had no conversation,_ Alaisia bitterly thought as she stormed away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't imagine Thorin having a clear head after losing so much of his family in a single battle...poor Alaisia just got caught in the crossfire of his turbulent emotions. Be prepared for some angst in the coming chapters!


	37. Heartbreak and Exile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos, and commented so far! I hope that you enjoy this next chapter.

Alaisia knelt as she tended the wounds of an injured soldier. _I am glad that I brought Lindir’s gift with me, and that he stocked the medicinal pouch well._ The soldier, like so many others, had a deep cut that needed to be sewn shut. Others were limping around with sprained or broken limbs, making their journey home challenging.

Brushing sweat off of her brow, Alaisia rose once her task was complete. She glanced around the encampment. A brooding figure by the fire stared back at her intensely with an inscrutable expression. Alaisia glared before swiftly walking away, departing Thorin’s line of sight.

~~~

The pain never seemed to cease for Thorin. Not just the pain of his shoulder wound, which he refused to have tended, but the emotional pain.

The loss of his brother and grandfather, who both died trying to reach or save him. His grandfather, who showed that he loved him again in the end, who broke through the dragon-sickness one last time.

The mystery of what happened to his father, who was neither among the dead nor among the living. All assumed him to be dead, but Thorin refused to believe that to be true in the absence of a body as proof.

The pain of bearing a title he was not yet ready for, a metaphorical crown (for he would not wear the one that his grandfather died wearing) that he felt he did not deserve.

The pain of his utterly irrational, brutish behavior toward Alaisia after the battle and her complete rejection of him since then.

Thorin had tried to muster the courage to speak to Alaisia later on the very day of the argument when they made camp. An apology was more than warranted. He felt terrible shortly after the encounter, knowing that he did wrong and that he spoke deplorably, but he did not know how to approach Alaisia again. So he did nothing but look at her from afar on their journey, contemplating his actions and how he might possibly repair things.

Alaisia rose and glared at Thorin when she saw him before turning her back on him and walking away.

_If ever she loved me, I am certain that she loves me no more. I pushed her away, slapped her hand away, and insulted her...all when she was only trying to comfort me._ Thorin watched Alaisia’s retreating figure as regret filled him once more. _What if she thinks my reaction from yesterday was related to her kiss? What if she sees this as a rejection of her?_

In truth, Thorin did not fully understand why he reacted as he did. He felt it must be related to a fear of losing her, as he lost so many others that he loved. He was angry when he saw her, angry that she had been so close to the danger.

And also jealous of the fact that everyone she loved was safe.

Thorin sighed and rubbed his brow before placing his head in his hands in anguish.

~~~

The journey home to the village felt far longer than the journey to the battle. All were solemn, for the losses suffered by the Dwarves far outweighed their incomplete victory. True, few Orcs remained to plague the Misty Mountains, but Durin’s Bane still reigned in Khazad-dum. Bolg, the Orc who slew Frerin and many other Dwarves at Azanulbizar, had also escaped the carnage even though Azog was slain.

Alaisia sighed to herself. The loss of Frerin, and the apparent loss of Thrain, pained her deeply as both Dwarves had never been anything but kind to her. Thrain was a noble leader, far more fit than Thror to rule, and he had defended her from Thror. She did not impart these sentiments to Thorin, though. Thorin had not spoken to her since their fight at the battlefield, and with each passing day Alaisia felt less keen to speak to him.

_I had dared to hope that Thorin might return some of my feelings, but now I think I may have misread him. Perhaps he wants nothing to do with me now that he is King given that I am just a common wench. If he truly felt guilty for the fight, he would have spoken to me by now. He must not care._

The group crested a hill not far from the settlement and saw smoke in the distance. The entire village, save for the stone buildings, had been burned down. A large crowd stood at the perimeter of the village. Alaisia, and many of the others, broke into a run in spite of their exhaustion.

“ _Adad_ , _Amad_ ,” Alaisia cried with relief as she found her parents. “I am so sorry for leaving - I should have stayed...”

“No, _nathith_ ,” Thila reassured her, “there is truly nothing that anyone could have done. The Dunlendings surprised us, at night, and set all of the village ablaze. There were no fatalities as we roused quickly, but there were a few injuries.”

Alaisia nodded, grateful that there had been no loss of life in the village. 

“I managed to scavenge many of our tools, but most of our other possessions and supplies are gone,” Morak said defeatedly. “How did the battle go?”

Alaisia related the events of the battle to her parents, and told them of her altercation with Thorin after the battle.

“That git!” Morak boomed with anger.

“I do not know that I wish to stay here. We have nothing here - there is nothing here for us now,” Alaisia responded sorrowfully.

“Do you wish to go back to Imladris, and take Lord Elrond up on his offer? We would go with you, if you wish,” Thila assured her daughter.

“I do not know. I feel guilty abandoning our people in a time of crisis. Can I think about it?”

“Of course, take as much time as you need,” Morak replied. “Do you want to go visit our old home and see if there is anything else that you wish to salvage?”

Alaisia nodded and walked over to her old homestead. The door frame still stood, and remnants of posts were scattered about. Her mind drifted to Dale as she pondered briefly what her old home must look like there now - undoubtedly a ruined shell and nigh unrecognizable.  _There really is nothing left to save. What future do we have here now?_

Her despair was interrupted by a set of armored footsteps. Turning, she saw Thorin standing hesitantly a few paces away. Alaisia curtsied sarcastically.

“Is there something that you need, my King?” She bit out. “Decided to criticize me more - to tell me again that I should have been here, that I somehow could have prevented this? I’m surprised that a ‘common’ Dwarf such as myself is even worth any of your time.”

Thorin’s face fell. “Please, there is no need to call me King. I am still the same Dwarf that you knew before-”

“Are you?” Alaisia said sharply. “The Dwarf that I knew never would have spoken to me as you did after the battle. The Dwarf that I cared for never would have pushed me away as you did.”

Alaisia waited for Thorin to reply. He stood before her, silent, his face cast downward.

“If that is all, I’ll be taking my leave. I have much to discuss with my parents.”

She strode off, fuming to herself.

_The nerve of that bastard. He says nothing to me for days and then comes to bother me when I am looking at the ruins of my family’s home?_

~~~

Dwalin and Balin came over to Thorin, who had fallen to his knees on the ground in front of Alaisia’s old home. A muffled sob escaped Thorin.

“What is the matter with you and Alaisia, Thorin?” Dwalin said.

Thorin explained their conversation from after the battle. Balin _tsked_ , and Dwalin cuffed Thorin upside the head, cursing in Khuzdul.

“You really put yer foot in it, laddie,” Dwalin remarked.

“Don’t you think that I know that?” Thorin whispered hoarsely. “She will never have me now. I made it worse, I fear, by not speaking to her soon after the fight.”

Balin rubbed his beard, cut short to mourn his and Dwalin’s father Fundin, before speaking. “You did make it worse, but I do not believe the damage is irreversible. Try speaking to her again in a bit. Give her some time to calm down. You’ll have to have an impeccable apology prepared though - seldom have I seen a dwarrowdam so angry.”

Thorin stood. “She said ‘cared’. Past tense, Balin. Is there really anything that can be done?”

“You of all people, based on your words to Alaisia, should know that you say things you do not mean when you are angry and hurt. Things can be repaired eventually, but not if you keep sulking about like this,” Balin advised Thorin.

“Thank you Balin,” Thorin whispered sadly as he turned to walk over to the remains of the village square, only to be confronted by Lord Stonehelm when he arrived there. Alaisia and her parents stood to the side of the square.

“Your Grace,” Lord Stonehelm began with a bow, “from what I hear the battle was won, although there were devastating losses. I helped to finance the war effort, and now it is time for you to hold up your side of the bargain and wed my daughter, Afara.”

Alaisia’s face fell before igniting afresh in anger. She stormed off.

Thorin stepped closer to Lord Stonehelm, clenching his fists at his sides.

“I made no such agreement. My deceased grandfather, the former King, made that arrangement without my consent and without my father’s consent. As such, I am not legally bound to wed Afara because there was no valid contract.”

Lord Stonehelm sputtered and appeared ready to protest.

“You may protest if you wish, but I will not marry your terrible wench of a daughter. I will marry for love, or not at all, and I have no love for Afara. If you disagree with my decision, feel free to leave and join another house of Dwarves. We can survive without your wealth.”

“You will regret this decision. Come, Afara - we are leaving.”

With that, Lord Stonehelm and Afara departed the settlement.

Balin approached Thorin.

“I must speak to Alaisia immediately,” Thorin murmured desperately.

“She will not listen to you now, but these people will.” Balin gestured out at the crowd of Dwarves staring at their new King. “You are their King, and they are seeking direction. I suggest that we make for Tharbad. It used to be a Numenorean settlement, since abandoned by all reports but perhaps hospitable. It is in Eriador, not far from the Shire, so I cannot imagine too many unsavory persons being there. If nothing else, it would be better than camping amid the ashes here.”

Thorin swallowed and nodded grimly.

“As many of you likely know by now, my grandfather is dead and my father is missing. I am the King now. I do not pretend to be a perfect Dwarf - I have made many mistakes in my life - but I will do my best to lead you all. We cannot stay here, for we are vulnerable. There is an ancient settlement, Tharbad in Eriador, that was abandoned long ago. That is our next destination. We will regather our strength at Tharbad while we plan for the extended future. Be ready to travel within the hour.”

The Dwarves in the audience bowed in respect to their new King before gathering at the western edge of the village. Thorin pulled the oak branch that saved his life in the battle against Azog out of his pack.

“The soldiers have given you a nickname apparently,” Dwalin said as he approached Thorin.

“What?” Thorin replied, voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Oakenshield,” Dwalin responded.

“Oakenshield,” Thorin repeated as he examined the branch, “I like it.”

“Be strong Thorin, and noble as you have been in the past, as fits your new title. Fix things with Alaisia. Balin and I both care for her as if she were our little sister and we do not wish to see her hurting as she is now.” Dwalin said before he walked away, leaving Thorin by himself.

_I shall bear no other shield until Alaisia forgives me and until Erebor and Dale are reclaimed_ , Thorin silently vowed as he looked down at the oak branch in his hands.


	38. The Road to Tharbad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Alaisia have a much needed conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for getting this up so late! I'll try to update again soon, perhaps this Sunday. I hope that you enjoy this next chapter!

The Dwarves set out within the hour after Thorin’s announcement, for they had no cause to linger at the ruined village. Balin tacked a note to one of the remaining posts to notify the King of Rohan of their departure, and of what befell their army at Azanulbizar.

Alaisia’s parents told her that Thorin had not really promised to marry Afara, that in fact he apparently had not even known of the deal, but Alaisia still felt angry and confused. She walked alongside her parents as they made their way toward Tharbad. The ring that she had made for Thorin sat at the bottom of her rucksack. Despite her anger, she could not bring herself to throw it away. If nothing else, it would fetch a mighty price if her family needed supplies.

Thorin walked at the front of the group, taking his position as King, although he glanced back at times to look at Alaisia. She steadfastly ignored him.

They made camp in a forest clearing at nightfall the day after leaving the village, having marched through the night to put more distance between their group and the village the first day. Their campsite was located near a small stream, allowing them to replenish their water supply.

Alaisia’s parents went to bed early, as did most other Dwarves in the group. Feeling restless, Alaisia sat near the fire, deep in thought. Thorin approached from the other side.

“Alaisia,” he began, “Please, I need to speak to you.”

“Leave. Me. Alone,” Alaisia replied through gritted teeth. “You’ve already said more than enough.”

She strode off through the trees and toward the stream. Thorin followed stubbornly. Balin, Dwalin, and Dis trailed not far behind as they had been watching the scene unfold. Alaisia stopped at the edge of the stream and turned to face Thorin.

“What do you have to say to me now, my King? Whatever it is, I do not wish to hear it. You had days - _days_ \- where you could have spoken to me, but all you did was brood and stare at me. I know how you feel about me. In spite of our years of friendship, I am clearly now nothing to you - common Dwarf is the phrase you used, if I do recall correctly.”

Thorin stepped forward between the trees. “Alaisia, I-”

He was cut short by a solid _thwack_ in the tree next to him. The Rohirrim dagger that he had given Alaisia was sticking out of the tree. Thorin looked to the dagger then to Alaisia, his face falling into something resembling despair.

“I’ve made up my mind. I will return to Rivendell with my parents. There is nothing for us here,”

Thorin stood still, dumbfounded. “Why in Mahal’s name would you go there?”

“You think that I am just a common Dwarf wench,” Alaisia spat out, “You always wanted to know about my ancestry and about why I lack a beard, didn’t you? I never told you because I feared that you would despise me, but I suppose there is no point in concealing it any longer since you’ve made your opinion of me quite clear. My ancestor, Narvi, had a daughter named Nalonis. She and the Elf-lord Celebrimbor fell in love and had a child, although they concealed its true parentage in the official texts. That child was my ancestor. I have some Elvish blood, I speak Elvish, and I felt more at home in Imladris than I did at any point since leaving my real home of Dale! Lord Elrond offered my parents and I a home in Imladris if we wished to stay, but I returned, unwilling to forsake you and the others. Now, there is nothing for me here, and I shall leave.”

Thorin gaped for a moment, then made a move to walk toward Alaisia. Balin stepped forward and put a hand on his shoulder. Alaisia stormed away, walking along the stream bank silence.

~~~

“You knew?” Thorin whispered hoarsely to Balin.

“I did not know for certain, but I suspected,” Balin replied.

“Of course I don’t care about her ancestry,” Thorin said. “Everything makes so much more sense now...her fondness of Rivendell, her secrecy...it hurts that she did not trust me enough to tell me before now, though.”

“Can you blame her? Look at how you reacted to the Elves that saved her and the others,” Dwalin remarked.

Sighing, Thorin spoke again. “I suppose not. Nothing could make me hate her, though, or think any less of her. Celebrimbor was a great friend to the Dwarves, too. No wonder she was so desperate to fight at Azanulbizar...she told me, before the battle, that she might come.”

The others were silent for a moment.

“She kissed me on the cheek when she gave me Deathless the night before the battle. I wrote a letter to her, for her to open if I did not make it back, confessing my feelings. That, of course, presumably burned in the fire.”

Dis nodded. “I did not have time to go through all of your belongings.”

“It matters not. If ever she would have returned my feelings, I am certain that she despises me now.”

Dis walked over to the tree and pulled out the dagger. “This,” she declared, “is proof that Alaisia does not hate you.”

“She threw a dagger at me,” Thorin meekly replied, “how is that proof that she does not hate me?”

“You really do not understand Dwarf women,” Dis chastised. She shook her head. “Alaisia is a skilled warrior. She aimed for the tree, not for you. She is angry with you, but had no desire to physically harm you, meaning that she still cares about you.”

“Twisted logic,” Thorin muttered bitterly, “but I suppose I see your point. She will not listen to me though, so there is no hope.”

“I’ll go speak to her,” Dwalin offered. “Perhaps she will listen to me.”

~~~

Alaisia sat at the edge of the stream, her feet immersed in the water. The light of a full moon glinted off of the water. She shivered slightly. _That was not how I wished to tell Thorin of my ancestry, but I suppose it does not matter now. Come dawn, I’ll be gone. I do miss Imladris...life seemed so peaceful, so easy and uncomplicated, there._

She stared at the water rippling gently in front of her.

_As angry as I am, I do still love Thorin. That’s why this hurts so much_...

She stood as she heard someone approach.

“Dwalin,” she said, “I am sorry that you had to hear that.”

Dwalin said nothing, but walked over and wrapped Alaisia in a bear hug. He patted her head and she began to sob.

“There, there, let it out,” Dwalin whispered. “No one thinks any less of you for being part Elf. Balin already suspected it. The rest of us were just dense.”

Alaisia breathed deeply, and waited for the tears to stop. She and Dwalin sat down next to each other.

“You can still leave for Rivendell if you wish - no one will stop you - but please listen to Thorin before you go.”

Bristling, Alaisia responded. “And why should I do that?”

“He can be a git at times, and he has a bit of a temper. You should have seen the temper tantrums he threw as a Dwarfling.”

“Thorin never lost his temper with me before.”

“I do not know what to say, other than that he let his emotions get the best of him. That is not at all an excuse for how he acted, but he really does feel terrible. Thorin values your friendship dearly.”

“Why should I listen to him now? If he feels so awful why did he not speak to me earlier?”

“Bravery has its limits. He was too afraid to speak to you after how he acted, too ashamed, too afraid of your rejection. Thorin could not find the right words then, but I’d wager he knows what to say now if you’ll hear him out.”

Alaisia sighed and looked up at the stars for a moment, breathing deeply. At last, she stood.

“All right. I will listen to him. I won’t promise to stay, though,” she warned.

Dwalin rose, and clapped her shoulder. “I’ll take my leave, then.”

Dwalin left, and Thorin walked over cautiously. He held the Rohirrim dagger in his outstretched hand for Alaisia to take it back. When she did not, he sighed and tossed it on the ground further up the bank.

“Where to begin...” Thorin mused to himself. “First of all, I want you to know how sorry I am for how I treated you after the battle. I was not myself - you were right. When I saw you in that moment, I was so angry that you were so close to the danger, I was grieving, and I was completely irrational. I had not seen you before that, except for that moment when our eyes met during the battle, and I was afraid that I might find you among the dead as I looked for my father.”

“You put yourself at risk too, Thorin,” Alaisia noted.

“Aye, that I did. And I had absolutely no right to speak to you as I did. You are as skilled a warrior as I am. I meant none of what I said. When I recall my words...” He paused, his voice breaking. “When I recall my words, it feels as though I am hearing someone else. I am a coward for having waited so long to speak to you.”

He paused, shuffling his feet nervously before looking Alaisia in the eye. “I am also ashamed of how I slapped away your hand when your only intent was to comfort me. As soon as I did so I regretted it, and became angry with myself, which led me to lash out more...”

Alaisia was silent for a moment, her face cast downward.

“I understand if you can never forgive me. I don’t know if I can forgive myself for the way that I spoke to you, for the way that I treated you. Your friendship means the world to me, Alaisia, and I cannot imagine life without you. I cannot imagine ruling without you, and your family, here. You are not a common Dwarf to me and you never were. If you no longer care for me I would understand after the way that I treated you, but I hope that things can be repaired between us.”

Alaisia sniffed, tears starting to stream down her face. “Can you promise me, Thorin, that you will never treat me that way again? That if you ever feel your temper rise again, you’ll walk away instead of lashing out at the people who care about you?”

She paused. “I cannot go through this again. I know that I overreacted too, throwing the dagger at the tree by your head, and I am sorry for that.”

Thorin removed his gloves and brushed away Alaisia’s tears with his thumbs, cupping her cheeks in his hands. He removed one hand to tip her chin upward so that she would look at him.

“I need you to look me in the eyes so that you know I mean it,” Thorin whispered. “I swear to never speak to you in that manner again, to never treat you like that again. And you have nothing to apologize for. I deserved your wrath.”

Alaisia stepped back. Thorin’s heart skipped a beat, fearing that he had not said enough, that things were beyond repair...

“Then I forgive you, Thorin, but I may need time. This is all new - we have never fought before - and things don’t feel...normal, for lack of a better way of putting it.”

Thorin exhaled, letting out a sigh of relief. “Of course. It understand if it takes some time for our friendship to feel normal again,” he replied.

“Honestly, I do not know if it ever will be normal again,” Alaisia whispered.

Thorin raised a quizzical brow.

“You are King now, and I am just a merchant lass. You will have other obligations, other duties to attend to...”

“Am I King? I do not feel like it,” Thorin mused. “And do not ever speak of yourself as just a merchant lass - you are my dearest friend, Alaisia, as well as a skilled craftswoman and captain.”

Alaisia sighed. “I did always struggle with my rank in society relative to yours - I felt self conscious about being lower-born. I suppose that’s part of why your words stung so much, even though you didn’t mean them.”

Thorin winced. “I did not know that you were self conscious about your rank, Alaisia. I am so sorry,” he whispered. “Rank does not matter, not to me. When we were young, and we met in Dale, you were the first peson outside of my family who understood me, who I could relate to.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “Not to mention, you do have royal blood - you are descended from a noble Elf-lord, Celebrimbor.”

Alaisia giggled through her tears. “I was always terrified that you would find out somehow and that you would hate me if you knew. You and the others must promise to tell no one - others might not respond as favorably to the news...”

“You have nothing to fear, Alaisia. Your secret is safe as long as you and your parents wish for it to be held. If anyone takes issue with your ancestry, they’ll have me to answer to.”

“Thank you,” Alaisia said softly.

“Also,” Thorin continued, “know that I could never, ever despise you, Alaisia.”

Alaisia wiped away the last of her tears, allowed Thorin to embrace her. She nestled her head underneath his, against his chest, as he held her close. She sighed with contentment before she moved back and placed a hand on his shoulder, ready to head back to the camp.

She stopped, however, as she saw Thorin wince at her motion. Swiftly, she withdrew her hand. Thorin sheepishly looked at her and raised his shirt with his uninjured arm. Seeing a piece of cloth wrapped around Thorin’s shoulder and torso, Alaisia looked Thorin in the eyes and then proceeded to unwrap the cloth.

“Thorin, you imbecile!” She hissed. “WHY in the name of Mahal and Durin and all that is holy did you not have this tended to?!”

“Is it really that bad?” Thorin asked concernedly.

“Oh, no, just a cut from your shoulder to your chest that is still oozing days after the battle. I saw this on your shoulder after the battle and assumed that you would have had it tended...”

Thorin paled. “I didn’t think it was so serious, and to be honest I did not really care there for a bit. I assumed it would get better or it wouldn’t.”

Alaisia rolled her eyes. “Typical male logic. Come on,” she ordered as she grabbed his hand and led him to a nearby tree. Thorin obeyed, looking rather sheepish, and sat down.

“I saw you stitching up some wounds on soldiers after the battle – did you learn that in Rivendell?” Thorin asked.

“Lindir, Lord Elrond’s steward, taught me. Lucky for you, I did not use all of my stitching supplies after the battle, and there is enough moonlight to fix this now,” Alaisia remarked as she pulled out her medicinal pouch.

She paused, hesitant. “It will be easier if you remove your shirt,” she whispered, blushing slightly.

“Oh. Right,” Thorin whispered, embarrassed. He shifted his arms slightly, then huffed in frustration. “When I lift my arm on the side that is injured, it bleeds more.”

“Oh, for Mahal’s sake Thorin,” Alaisia huffed. “You are lucky it isn’t severely infected already. Here, I’ll help.”

With Alaisia’s help, Thorin managed to slip off his cloak and his shirt, shivering slightly at the chilly night air.  

Alaisia placed a hand over her mouth, horrified at the wound she was now better able to see on Thorin’s shoulder and chest. The gash extended down from his shoulder across the upper left quadrant of his chest nearly to the center of his chest. It wasn’t terribly deep, so it would at least be easy enough to repair. She knelt next to him, and gently traced the outline of the wound. Thorin shuddered.

“I’m sorry, I will try to be gentle. What did this?”

“Azog,” Thorin muttered bitterly. “I saw to it that he paid for it.”

Alaisia gathered the necessary supplies from her pouch and laid them out neatly next to Thorin. She tore a bit of cloth off of her tunic and went to the stream to wet it.

“We need to clean the wound first. This may hurt,” Alaisia whispered, seeking permission. Thorin nodded, and Alaisia began cleaning the dried blood away. As she did, in spite of her best intentions, she found her eyes wandering a bit.

_Mahal, he has an incredible chest._ She felt heat rise to her cheeks and fought the urge to gawk at him.

At last, the cut was clean and ready to be repaired. Alaisia grabbed the needle and thread, a fibrous material derived from plant products, and moved to begin her work before pausing. She huffed.

“Something wrong?” Thorin asked.

“I...” Alaisia began. “It’s just that I’ve never repaired a wound this large before, and the angle from the side is rather awkward.”

“Would it help if you knelt directly in front of me?” Thorin gently asked.

Alaisia nodded and stood. Thorin moved his legs apart to create space for Alaisia to kneel, and Alaisia began her work in stitching Thorin up. Thorin winced at times, and grabbed Alaisia’s shoulder for comfort. She gave him a reassuring smile and kept working. At last, she finished the final stitch.

“There now, it is all done. I wove this thread about a month ago, so that should give it some time still before it degrades. You’ll have to be careful with this arm, though.”

“You won’t have to remove the stitches? They will go away on their own?” Thorin asked.

“Elvish medicine,” Alaisia whispered with a smile and a wink. She stared at her handiwork for a moment longer and put a hand to her mouth as she bit back a sob.

“Alaisia, what is wrong?” Thorin asked concernedly. In answer, Alaisia threw her arms around Thorin and clung to him. Thorin held her, pulling her in tighter against his bare chest. He moved one hand to her hair and gently stroked it while Alaisia cried.

After some time, Alaisia’s tears subsided. She nuzzled her head against Thorin’s chin briefly before pulling back to face him.

“You could have died,” she whispered solemnly. “I was just remembering how frightened I was after the battle...how terrified I was that I would not be able to find you. How relieved I was when I saw you alive.”

Thorin cursed silently. “And then I went and treated you despicably, when I was also relieved to see you alive. I was a fool.”

“Do not keep beating yourself up. I’ve more than forgiven you now,” Alaisia said, absentmindedly tracing the outline of the wound she repaired. “I did not mean to make you feel guilty again. The emotion of nearly having lost you just hit me. I tried to reach you, you know. Frerin pushed me back though, told me to fend off the Orcs behind him. I did fend them off, but there were so many other Orcs ahead...” Her voice trailed off. “I blame myself. If I had pushed ahead, and gone with him, perhaps I could have protected him. He was young and reckless...”

Thorin pulled Alaisia against him again. “I did not know that you saw him before he died. You should not blame yourself - if you had gone with him, you might have been killed too. It does no good to dwell on what might have been.”

The two sat in silence for a moment. Alaisia got up from Thorin’s lap and sat next to him, her left shoulder against his (uninjured) right shoulder. Thorin shivered.

“I did not notice how cold it was until you moved, I suppose,” he muttered sheepishly.

“Perhaps we should head back to the camp now, and try to get a decent night’s sleep before we have to move on tomorrow,” Alaisia murmured as she rose.

Alaisia helped Thorin to re-dress. Thorin walked over to the bank to retrieve the Rohirrim dagger and offered it again to Alaisia. This time, she accepted it, and the pair walked back to the camp. Thorin moved his bedroll nearer to Alaisia’s, where the two fell asleep facing one another.


	39. Foraging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos so far! I hope that you enjoy this update.

Thorin awoke early the next morning and found his hand entwined tightly with Alaisia’s. He gently removed it and knelt over her. Alaisia was fast asleep, snoring softly. He pressed a soft kiss to her brow, causing her to stir slightly, but she did not wake up. Turning away from her, Thorin saw Dis staring at him along with Balin and Dwalin.

As Thorin walked over to join them, Dis giggled. “Is it official?”

Thorin blushed. “No...Alaisia will stay, and I believe I am forgiven, but I have not confessed my feelings to her. She has made no confession of her feelings to me. I don’t want to press her after what just happened. If she does love me, I do not want it to be clouded by recent events...”

Dwalin rolled his eyes. “I saw her stitching you up. People who are just friends don’t act that way.”

Balin and Dis nodded, eyes glinting with mischief.

“You prats! I cannot believe that all three of you spied on us. For how long?”

“Only a short while,” Dis replied with a wink.

~~~

Alaisia awoke to find her hand empty. Earlier in the night, she woke up while Thorin was still asleep, and she had reached over to grab his hand. He sighed contentedly without rousing, and she slipped promptly back into peaceful sleep.

Stretching, she moved to rouse her parents. She explained the events of the previous night, leaving out the fact that she embraced Thorin rather desperately while he was shirtless.

“I am glad that all is well now, _nathith_ ,” Thila said with a smile.

“Aye, but if he ever acts like an arse toward you again, he’ll have me to answer too.” Morak grumbled protectively.

Thila and Alaisia chuckled at Morak’s response, but they composed themselves as they saw Thorin approach. When Thorin reached them, he dipped his head respectfully to Alaisia’s parents who bowed in return.

“Please, that is not necessary. I came to apologize for how my grandfather treated you at the end, and to ask that you resume your roles as advisers. You have given my father, grandfather, and I much wise counsel over the years.”

Thila looked at Morak, and the pair nodded. “We would be honored, my King,” Thila replied.

Thorin shook his head. “You do not need to address me by a formal title. Thorin is fine.”

Alaisia’s parents smiled and nodded gratefully.

“Are we heading out soon?” Alaisia asked as she stepped to Thorin’s side. Thorin shook his head.

“No, I’ve ordered some of our archers to gather food. Much of the village’s food stores were lost, so we have very little with us. I’m afraid that I will not be of much use until my shoulder heals, as I do not wish to disturb the stitches, but would you be willing to help?”

“Absolutely,” Alaisia said with a grin. She waved to her parents and walked with Thorin to the edge of the clearing.

“You may not be able to shoot, but you can still gather edible plants with your good arm and help me to watch for suitable game,” Alaisia said hopefully.

“I had planned on coming with you,” Thorin said, “I have missed your company, and not just these past days. It is pleasant to not have an armed guard following me anymore.”

“I would suggest that you have a guard for your own safety, but you are well-liked as a King so perhaps it is not necessary. You are giving hope to your people, Oakenshield,” Alaisia teased.

“So you heard about that nickname?” Thorin asked.

“I did,” Alaisia replied, “and I quite like it. It suits you.”

As the pair walked through the woods, they continued talking. Thorin asked Alaisia for a more complete version of the tale of her days in Rivendell, so Alaisia told him of her time with Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen, of reading Elvish texts, and of the many nights she spent listening to poetry in the Hall of Fire.

“Through it all, I was always terrified of my identity being discovered. The other Dwarves did think it odd that I spent so much time with the Elves.”

“You enjoyed your time there greatly,” Thorin remarked with a hint of sorrow.

Alaisia turned to look back at him.

“If ever you wish to return there - to live or to visit - do not let me, or anyone else, hold you back,” Thorin said solemnly.

“Thorin,” Alaisia smiled as she brushed her fingers on his arm, “I would dearly love to visit Imladris again someday, and for you to see it too, but you needn’t worry about me leaving. I will never move there.”

_There is too much for me here still,_ she thought with a hint of a smile.

“I am glad to hear it,” Thorin replied. “Would I be welcome there?”

“Yes, I think so,” Alaisia responded thoughtfully, “but you would have to behave yourself and be respectful of the Elves.”

“As long as I do not have to see Thranduil, I can promise to be respectful.”

Alaisia nodded emphatically. “Do you want to know what he called me in Elvish, years ago when he insulted me at Erebor?”

“What?” Thorin queried.

“A beardless mutt,” Alaisia spat out derisively.

“That pointy-eared bastard!” Thorin fumed. “Thranduil knew, then, that you were Elven and Dwarven. Who in Rivendell knew of your heritage?”

“Lord Elrond and Lady Arwen, Legolas, Lindir, and I suppose many of the others suspected but were told to say nothing. They have one of the few accurate records of Nalonis and Celebrimbor’s child.”

Alaisia hesitated. “I am sorry for not telling you before, Thorin. I wish that I had told you sooner...it would have saved me much anxiety.”

Thorin shook his head. “There is no need to apologize.” He paused for a moment, contemplating something. “You spent a lot of time with Legolas in Rivendell - do you ever miss him?”

“I do not think of him very often, but I suppose to some extent yes. He saved my life and he was a good friend to me, just as Lord Elrond, Lady Arwen, and Lindir were. Legolas was the one who gave me the Dale rose seed packets, as well as a bouquet of live ones to keep in my room during my stay there.”

Thorin’s face shifted slightly when Alaisia mentioned that last detail.

_Is that jealousy_?

After the events of the past several days, Alaisia merely wanted to resume her friendship with Thorin and learn how it would change - if at all - as a result of Thorin’s new role as King. After everything that had happened, she was too afraid to ask about his feelings for her in case her own feelings were not returned.

Seeing Thorin’s jaw twitch with jealousy - definitely jealousy - made her wonder.

_But he just stood there like a statue when I kissed his cheek before we set out for battle...does he love me, or does he just feel protective of me as a friend?_

Thorin was staring off into space, deep in thought just as Alaisia had been.

“Thorin?” she called uncertainly. “Are you all right?” She placed a hand gently on his injured shoulder. “How is your shoulder today?”

“Better, thank you,” Thorin responded as he recovered. Alaisia stood still for a second, and then impulsively grabbed Thorin’s hand.

“Come on, we should keep going. I think I heard something rustle over there...”

As the pair walked forward, Alaisia noted with much delight that Thorin grasped her hand more tightly.

_Perhaps I may dare to hope again after all_.

~~~

That evening, after a modest feast from the fruits of the day’s labor, the Dwarves settled down to sleep. Thorin took one of the first watch shifts at the eastern edge of the camp. Sleep evaded Alaisia, so she sought Thorin’s company.

“You should rest, Alaisia,” he protested as she sat down next to him.

“I could not sleep,” Alaisia murmured.

“Aye, I’ve felt the same way most nights since the battle. I think last night was the first night I was able to rest, but tonight...” Thorin’s voice trailed off.

Alaisia turned toward him, and placed a hand on his arm.

“How are you coping, Thorin? If ever you need to talk to me-”

Thorin’s body heaving as he began to cry interrupted Alaisia’s words. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around Thorin to comfort him. He cried into her shoulder. At last, Thorin’s tears subsided, and he shifted slightly away from Alaisia, looking away in shame.

“Forgive me,” he rasped, “my emotions got the better of me.”

Alaisia moved to kneel in front of Thorin, and gently reached out to take hold of his hands.

“Thorin,” she whispered, “there is no shame in tears, especially considering how much you have lost. A King who ignores his own feelings cannot lead his people wisely.”

Thorin turned back to face Alaisia again, nodding slightly.

“My last words with my grandfather were the night before the battle. I overheard a fight between him and my father. My grandfather was telling him of the scheme to marry me to Afara. I barged in and yelled at my grandfather, for this was the first I had heard of any such plan. He did not care about my feelings on the matter and was bent on forcing me into the union. Yet one day later, he died to save me.”

“He still loved you,” Alaisia whispered as she twined her hands more closely with Thorin’s. “He always loved you, I’m sure. The dragon-sickness just distorted his emotions.”

Thorin nodded stiffly. “I fear the dragon-sickness. What if it comes for me?”

“You saw how it impacted your grandfather. You remember how it hurt you, and the rest of your family. You won’t let yourself fall, Thorin. I won’t let you fall, nor will Balin or Dwalin or Dis or any of the others who care about you.”

Brushing his thumb over the back of Alaisia’s hand, Thorin sighed. “I hope that you are correct. That is not all that troubles me, though. I know my father is still out there. We burned all of the dead bodies, and his was not among them.”

“Where do you think he might have gone?”

“That I do not know. He may have gone eastward, back toward Erebor, or he may have been taken captive by some of the Orcs that fled. I cannot look for him now, though - I have a duty to our people, to ensure that they are safe and prosperous.”

“I am sorry, Thorin. I was quite fond of your father too - he was always so kind to my family, and to me.” Alaisia thought for a moment. “Perhaps when we are settled we can send ravens to Lord Elrond and to the King of Rohan to ask them to watch for Thrain.”

“Aye, and visit the towns of Men to see what rumors we might find,” Thorin responded.

~~~

Thorin and Alaisia sat in silence until Alaisia drifted off to sleep against Thorin. Dwalin came to take over the watch, smirking at Thorin who in return looked rather sheepish, and helped Thorin carry Alaisia back to the camp.

Once Alaisia was on her bed roll and Thorin sat down on his own bed roll nearby. He looked around the camp, noting the number of Dwarves he was now responsible for, before returning his gaze to Alaisia. Thorin stroked her cheek softly before withdrawing his hand.

_I have nothing to offer her. I am a King without a crown and without a throne. She would make an excellent Queen, but how can I ask her to stand at my side, to help me care for all of these people, when she has been through so much already? I still do not know if she even loves me, or what her kiss before the battle meant_.

Thorin groaned in frustration and wrapped himself in his cloak as he lay down to sleep. As his eyelids began to close, exhaustion consuming him, Thorin heard a small sound.

“Thorin?” Alaisia asked in her sleep as she reached out a hand. Her brow was furrowed.

Thorin chuckled, remembering all the times Alaisia had mumbled in her sleep when they were journeying to Dunland. It was generally incoherent, but this was clear. She whispered his name, and she held out her hand for him.

Cautiously, Thorin moved his hand nearer to Alaisia’s. Her hand continued to search the space between them until it rested on his hand and grasped it.

“Thorin,” she sighed with relief in her sleep.

Thorin felt hope well up within him, and he kissed Alaisia’s hand softly before falling asleep.


	40. Arrival in Tharbad

The Dwarves’ march north to Tharbad took several more days to complete. The distance was not great, but many were weary from loss and from battle. A stubborn chill lingered in the air, occasionally depositing snow on the travelers, which further deteriorated morale. Shortly after sunset on the sixth day since leaving the village, the Dwarves came to a grassy meadow dotted with oak and poplar trees. The silhouette of an ancient city loomed in the distance.

“Balin, is that city in the distance Tharbad?” Thorin asked.

“Aye, I believe so laddie. We are finally here,” Balin replied with a sigh of relief.

“We should not enter at night,” Dis remarked as she stepped closer to her brother. “By all accounts it is not inhabited, but it would be wise to investigate it during the day before bringing all of our people there.”

Thorin nodded and turned back to address the mass of Dwarves.

“Tharbad lies a short distance across this meadow. We will make camp here tonight. In the morning, I will lead a group on a scouting mission to ensure that the city is truly uninhabited, and we will determine where safe and adequate housing exists.”

His people murmured their assent and busied themselves with setting up camp for the evening. Alaisia walked over to Thorin and rested her hand lightly on his arm.

“How’s your shoulder?” she asked.

“Better, I think,” Thorin responded. “I have much less pain, and I can move my arm more freely.”

Alaisia nodded. “That is good. Still, I would not recommend any strenuous exercise of that arm for another week or so.”

Thorin looked disappointed, but he nodded reluctantly. “Will you come with me into the city tomorrow? Your parents should also come with us.”

“Absolutely,” Alaisia beamed, “I am getting rather tired of camping. What do you think we shall find when we venture into Tharbad tomorrow? There were some texts in Lord Elrond’s library that spoke of Tharbad in its prime - it was once a great trading city. The Numenoreans built it back in the Second Age.”

“I remain skeptical. There must be a reason why people abandoned the settlement, after all.” Thorin sighed. “Regardless, we do not have any other options, so it is well worth investigating. I only hope that it will at last give us a safe refuge.”

“Aye, that is the least we can hope for,” Alaisia mused.

~~~

At dawn, Alaisia stirred and rose. She carefully packed up her bed roll and walked to the edge of the camp that faced Tharbad. The sky was speckled with clouds, and the light of the rising sun cast a golden glow over the ancient city. Stone buildings, some crude and crumbling, some seemingly untouched by the passage of time, were clustered along the riverbank. A dilapidated gatehouse with doors askew stood in front of the buildings. Alaisia placed a hand over her mouth and turned away, feeling tears well in her eyes, only to find herself face-to-face with Thorin.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “What troubles you, Alaisia?” he whispered softly. Most of the other Dwarves were still sleeping.

Calming herself, Alaisia replied “I’m…I’m not sure. I was restless, so I got up to look at Tharbad. Perhaps the sunrise over the stone buildings reminded me of Dale. The ruins must look horrible there now…”

Thorin grimaced, but nodded in understanding. “It is hard to not be reminded of the past. Losing our new home in Dunland brought back memories of fleeing Erebor for me.”

“At least no lives were lost in the destruction of our home this time,” Alaisia noted.

“I almost lost you again though, albeit in a different way,” Thorin whispered. He brushed a stray hair behind Alaisia’s ear and then dropped his hand to his side, returning his gaze to the city in front of them.

“I feared that I had lost you too,” Alaisia murmured in response as she reached for Thorin’s hand.

“Ahem,” Dwalin coughed behind them. Thorin and Alaisia broke apart abruptly, blushing slightly.

“Sorry to disturb you, but we should begin to rouse those who we plan to take with us into the city,” Dwalin said with the barest hint of a knowing smirk on his face.

“Of course, I’ll gather a small guard to go with us. Dwalin, can you collect representatives from as many families as you can? And Alaisia, can you get your parents?” Thorin asked.

Alaisia nodded, continuing to blush faintly as she walked away.

_I do not know why I should be so embarrassed...Dwalin was not really interrupting anything._ She paused, fingering the chain of the necklace with the ring that she made for Thorin. The ring remained hidden carefully beneath her tunic.

She shook her head slightly.

_I really should just tell Thorin how I feel, but I am still so frightened! We’ve been friends since we were young - what if he simply sees me as a close friend? He never did broach the topic of me kissing him on the cheek before the battle..._

“Good morning, Alaisia!” Her mother’s greeting shook her out of her contemplation.

“Good morning _Amad_ , _Adad_ ,” Alaisia said as she greeted her parents. “We are preparing to head into the city - Thorin asked me to get both of you.”

“I hope that they have a decent forging apparatus there,” Morak remarked. “We will need to begin work as soon as possible if we wish to return to some semblance of prosperity.”

Alaisia and Thila murmured their agreement, and the trio went to join the group gathering for the expedition into the settlement.

~~~

Thorin strode into the city with his hand on the hilt of his sword Deathless. The Dwarves selected to go on the scouting mission - a smattering of formal soldiers along with citizens and tradespeople - trailed behind him. Tharbad proved to be a complex and winding maze of decaying stone and brick buildings connected by a series of decrepit paths. Most of the buildings seemed habitable, albeit aged, but some were crumbling or leaning ominously.

Thorin turned to face the crowd of Dwarves behind him. “The purpose of this venture is twofold. We must ensure that no one currently resides here, or that if others are present they pose no threat to us. Additionally, if you have a family, you have priority for selecting a residence. Balin and I shall go around later today to record who has laid claim to what properties so that there will be no disputes.”

Dwalin barked out orders for the Dwarves to fan out in all directions through the city. Thorin set out followed by his kin, Alaisia’s family, Drayli’s family, and some guards. The group walked for a time through the city, occasionally winding down side streets but working their way toward the city center. Thankfully, no bandits or Orcs were present. Each building the company passed appeared unoccupied. Soon, they came to a plaza with a broken fountain at the center.

“Well, it is distinctive,” Alaisia remarked drily at the former centerpiece of the plaza. “It could serve as a landmark of sorts.”

Thorin chuckled. “Aye, perhaps in time we can repair it. It seems that this used to be the administrative center of the city.”

Balin stepped forward to stand beside Thorin and nodded. “That large building over there is likely the old meeting hall. If it is in suitable condition, we might be able to house additional Dwarves there. It looks as if there are many stone houses around the plaza.”

Thorin ordered the soldiers to investigate the meeting hall while he and the others dispersed to investigate the houses. Choosing the one nearest to the meeting hall, Thorin stepped inside. The door creaked, and appeared largely eaten by termites, but the home itself seemed sturdy enough. It had a small kitchen with a gathering room off to the side and stairs (thankfully stone, Thorin observed, not wood) leading up to two additional floors. One bedroom was present on each of the two upper floors, each modestly furnished with objects made of now rotten wood.

_Unremarkable, but it would serve Dis and I well enough once we fashion some new furniture. We could each have our own room at least._

As Thorin returned to the bottom floor, he noticed a door at the back of the house. Behind the house there was a small, paved courtyard with an aged forge. Brick walls smothered in trailing vines surrounded the courtyard.

_Perfect. I can work here in peace. I shall not be an idle king like my grandfather, even when I can afford to be idle again._

Something shiny caught his eye on an anvil in the corner. It was a simple chain with a clasp, slightly tarnished but still intact. Thorin looked down to the ring on his hand, his brow furrowing in thought.

_I am not worthy to wear one of the Seven, not while my people struggle to scratch a living out of mere ruins._

He slipped the ring off his hand, slid it onto the chain, and fastened the chain about his neck.

_I will only wear this on my hand when Erebor is reclaimed, and my people are secure once more._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 41 up next is a very important chapter to the story, and I feel like I need some additional time to edit it to make sure I'm satisfied with it. It might take a bit longer than usual to update as a result, but it will be up within a week (hopefully much sooner)! The courtyard introduced in Thorin's new home in this chapter is particularly important in the next chapter :)  
> Also, I know in book-canon Tharbad was occupied until 2912 approximately, but I took the creative liberty of having it be abandoned for some time prior to the arrival of the Dwarves for the purposes of this story.


	41. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thorin and Alaisia FINALLY tell each other how they really feel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me through this very, very slow burn! This chapter was challenging as it includes the first sex scene that I've had to write, so please be constructive in any comments that you have. This chapter is rated M, but there is no smut.

Within a month the Dwarves were more or less settled in Tharbad. They clustered on the side of the riverbank that they first approached, for the bridge to the other side of the city was in a condition of disrepair that made it perilous to cross. Thorin ordered the construction of several small boats and rafts to allow river crossings for trade. Trees were also felled to make new furniture and to provide raw material for some of the craftspeople. Metal resources were scarce, forcing the Dwarves to rely on contract work for smithying with nearby villages of Men. The War of the Dwarves and the Orcs, along with the subsequent loss of their Dunland village, had exacted a heavy toll on the prosperity of Thorin’s people.

Alaisia and her family chose a small two-bedroom home across the central plaza from Thorin’s abode. They shared a modest forge with Drayli’s family and with one other neighboring family. One evening, Alaisia finished her work early. She tidied her appearance, changing into one of her nicer blue tunics that she remembered Thorin complimenting, and took a deep breath to steady herself.

“ _Adad_ , _Amad_ , I am leaving now to go visit Thorin,” she called as she left the house.

Alaisia made her way across the plaza, casting a sideways glance at the still-broken fountain. She hated it, for it reminded her that they were guests of a ruined city, and it never failed to conjure images in her mind of the ruins of Dale. Knocking on the door at Thorin’s house brought no answer. Alaisia gently pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The entryway was empty, but she heard the sound of hammering and saw the glow of fire dancing across the walls from the courtyard. As she walked into the courtyard, Alaisia saw that Thorin was working at the smithy, shirtless, and hammering at a piece of molten metal. His broad, muscular back was facing Alaisia, and he seemed to not notice her presence. Alaisia swallowed, her throat suddenly going dry.

_Come on Alaisia, it isn’t as if this is your first time seeing him shirtless. Don’t act like a naive dwarrowdam._

That was true, but Alaisia had dreamed of Thorin many times since she patched his wound by moonlight along the river bank. She had dreamed of him coming to her, of him confessing his love, and each time she awoke with a desperate longing for him.

_How did I ever fool myself into thinking that I am not in love with him?_

Stepping forward cautiously, she managed a glimpse at Thorin’s face. It was creased in anger, frustration, and bitterness. Alaisia hesitated, recalling for a moment his demeanor after Azanulbizar, but she steeled her resolve. She decided to approach him gently lest she startle him or stoke his ill temper.

“Thorin,” she called softly at first. Thorin apparently did not hear her, so she tried again, more loudly.

When Alaisia still failed to get a response, she stepped directly behind Thorin and placed her hand cautiously on his arm. He startled, and whirled to face her as the sword he was working on clattered unceremoniously to the ground.

“I’m so sorry to startle you—allow me get that,” as Alaisia bent to retrieve the sword with a pair of tongs. “You did not respond when I called.”

Thorin let out a sigh. “No, you have nothing to apologize for. You can just set that aside for now. It is not my best work, unfortunately.” He frowned, gazing toward the ground pensively.

“What troubles you?” Alaisia whispered, trying her best to not be distracted by Thorin’s chiseled abdomen.

“Everything,” Thorin growled. “I am a King without a throne who cannot bring prosperity to my own people. My father, grandfather, and brother were all lost to a war that brought us no closer to reclaiming Erebor and that failed to restore Khazad-dum to its former glory.” He lifted the Dwarven ring of power from where it rested against his chest. “I do not even feel worthy to wear this, so I put it on a chain to keep it safe,” he whispered hoarsely.

Alaisia lifted her hand to Thorin’s cheek, and he leaned into her hand immediately. Thorin’s pain was palpable as he released a defeated sigh.

“Do not ever see yourself as a failure, Thorin. You have faced many trials, and you are doing the best you can for your people. It is natural to grieve the loss of those whom you love. Tears and sorrow are not signs of weakness,” Alaisia murmured before she removed her hand.

Thorin nodded, and looked aside. “Thank you, Alaisia, for always being a true friend. I try so hard to be brave for Dis’ sake, but that does not change how I feel.”

Alaisia smiled gently. Thorin looked down and cursed under his breath.

“Forgive me, I should grab my shirt,” he muttered.

“There is no need,” Alaisia replied, “I have already seen you shirtless, unless you have forgotten that I stitched you up after the battle.”

Thorin laughed. “I have not forgotten. It has healed well, thanks to your efforts.”

Alaisia reached out a hand toward the former injury, seeking permission from Thorin. He nodded, and Alaisia traced the scar lightly with her fingers, noticing how the muscle underneath tensed slightly at her touch.

“I am glad that it healed without complication. Unfortunately, I do not believe that anything can be done about this scar.” She withdrew her hand, blushing slightly as she did so.

“The scar is a reminder of that battle, and of my victory against Azog. I would not wish it away,” Thorin said. “I do wish that I knew where to take our people next, for I do not think it wise or fruitful to linger here for long,” he murmured.

“Perhaps we can travel further to the west,” Alaisia suggested.

Thorin’s eybrow shot upward. “Further still? What would be the benefit to that?”

“Aye,” Alaisia began, “after all, the Firebeards and the Broadbeams dwell in the Blue Mountains. They wrote that they owed us for not being able to take part in the War, and they are recovering well from that earthquake now. Perhaps they would offer us some form of aid, or at the very least a more permanent space to stay?”

Thorin winced slightly at the word _permanent_. “I do not wish for our people to become mere guests of another kingdom. That is almost worse than our current predicament.”

Alaisia shook her head. “You misunderstood me—I did not mean for us to become wards of the Firebeards or of the Broadbeams. I heard rumors of abandoned halls in the Blue Mountains not formally claimed by either house on my last trip to Bree. While the Firebeards and Broadbeams live north of the Gulf of Lhun, the kingdom that I speak of is to the south, in the Harlindon reach of the mountains.”

“So they might be willing to let us take control of that kingdom,” Thorin finished. “It is well worth a try, for we do not have any better options currently. I will prepare for a journey west in the coming weeks.” He paused, something dawning on him.

“Forgive me, I’ve been focusing the conversation on my insecurities about ruling,” Thorin chuckled. “Was there something that you wanted to discuss when you came over here?”

Alaisia shivered, pulling her cloak closer around her. She gulped slightly. Her heart pounded anxiously in her chest at a rate that reminded her of Thorin’s smithying earlier.

“Yes,” she began cautiously. Thorin waited patiently, curiosity glinting in his eyes. Alaisia faltered, all of the potential scenarios playing through her mind, all of the things she wanted to say slipping from her memory.

_Confidence_.

“You mean the world to me, Thorin, and I...I love you with all of my heart. I cannot imagine life without you. If you do not feel the same, I understa-”

She could not finish her sentence, for Thorin’s lips crashed against hers as he wrapped his arms around her. Alaisia threw her arms around Thorin’s neck, moaning at the sensation of _finally_ feeling his lips on hers as she had so often dreamed, and she threaded her hands through Thorin’s raven hair to pull him closer. Thorin continued kissing Alaisia, and Alaisia returned his kisses almost desperately as Thorin pushed her back against the wall of the courtyard. Thorin lifted Alaisia up, and she laced her legs around his waist as he carried her over to his work table.

He deposited her on the tabletop before climbing up and straddling her. Alaisia splayed her hands on Thorin’s muscular back and pulled him insistently down onto her, meeting his lips again and enjoying the feeling of her tongue sparring with his. Alaisia gasped for air as Thorin broke off their kiss and melted under Thorin’s touch as he began to blaze a trail of kisses from her lips down to her torso.

Halting his efforts for a moment, Thorin looked into Alaisia’s eyes and tenderly cupped her cheek. “I love you too. I have for a long time now, but I feared that you might not feel the same.”

Alaisia shyly looked back at Thorin, her cheeks still flushed from pleasure. “Part of me was still convinced that you only saw me as a childhood friend. I am glad to find that I was wrong.”

“You are my dearest friend, and my only love,” Thorin murmured. “The two are not mutually exclusive by any means.” Thorin leaned in to kiss Alaisia tenderly. He paused, frowning for a moment, before rising and climbing off of the table.

“What is wrong, Thorin?” Alaisia asked concernedly as she sat up with him.

“I would ask you to marry me, and to become my Queen, but I have no kingdom or crown to offer you.” Thorin cast his gaze downward in shame.

Alaisia’s heart skipped a beat at Thorin’s proposal. She slid down from the bench and stood in front of Thorin, pulling the ring she made for him out from her tunic as she did so.

“Thorin,” she began, “Our lack of a formal kingdom, our current state of exile—those things do not matter to me. I love you, and I do wish to marry you. Even if we never reclaim Erebor, I will be content as long as I am at your side, and I would be honored to be your Queen. I made this ring for you some time ago using the same Elvish metal I used to make our swords.”

Thorin gently took the ring from Alaisia and slid it onto his hand, marveling at the craftsmanship. “You have been wearing it all this time?” Thorin murmured. “Thank you, Alaisia.” He paused. “I have not yet made a ring for you, but I will give you this ring. It was my mother’s wedding band; my father gave it to me when I came of age.”

Alaisia’s eyes widened. The ring had the seal of the house of Durin on it in intricate metalwork raised over a deep blue sapphire. She had seen the ring adorn Thorin’s hand for years now and always admired the craftsmanship. It was a lovely ring, and that Thorin was willing to give her one of the few remaining mementos he had of his mother made Alaisia’s eyes well with tears.

“It is beautiful,” she whispered reverently, “thank you.”

“I am sorry that I did not make a ring for you. When our circumstances improve, that will be my first task,” Thorin said regretfully.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Before Azanulbizar, you were watched far too closely to make something as intimate as a ring. Afterward...well, none of us have the means to make weapons or jewelry for our own use now. Do not feel the need to craft me another ring. This one is perfect, _amralime_.”

Thorin nodded gratefully at Alaisia’s words, his eyes filled with mirth as he moved to embrace his bride-to-be again.

“I do have one request,” Thorin said. “I wish for us to delay our marriage until the circumstances of our people are more certain. You deserve a proper wedding ceremony and a coronation with a gown fit for a queen. At the present moment, we cannot achieve that.”

“How long do you wish to delay? Until we move west to that abandoned kingdom, Firebeards and Broadbeams willing?” Alaisia asked.

“Hopefully it would not be more than a year or so from now,” Thorin replied thoughtfully. “Are you all right with that?”

Alaisia stepped back and sighed disappointedly. “I understand your logic, but...we wasted so much time in doubt of each other’s feelings. I just want to marry you as soon as possible, Thorin. The pomp and circumstance do not matter as much to me. If you insist on waiting a while longer though, a year or two at _most_ , that is fine.”

Chuckling, Thorin kissed Alaisia on the neck before he moved to whisper in her ear. “Soon, my love.”

“Thank you, Thorin,” Alaisia murmured in response. She unclasped her cloak and allowed it to fall to the ground, and kissed Thorin as she trailed her hands down to the belt at his waist, fingering the clasp suggestively. Thorin caught her hands and lifted them.

“We should not do this now. It is against Dwarven custom to make love before marriage...” Thorin weakly protested.

“Damn the custom, Thorin! I am tired of waiting. Do you really want to remain abstinent until our marriage? Are you able to wait that much longer?”

“No,” Thorin replied sheepishly, “I did always think that custom was rather foolish. My real concern is the risk of pregnancy. If you get pregnant when we are not yet married, that would be gravely frowned upon. Our child must be legitimate to avoid discord regarding inheritance.”

“We don’t have to worry about that,” Alaisia remarked coyly.

Thorin quirked his brow. “How is that?”

“After that day we spent in the forest hunting, when you were still recovering, I consulted a book in the medical kit Lindir gave me about herbal remedies. I found the appropriate herbs to prevent pregnancy, and I’ve been taking them since. It’s Elvish medicine,” Alaisia said with a wink.

Thorin bent to retrieve Alaisia’s cloak and gave it to her.

“Really?” Alaisia remarked, slightly indignant. “Thorin, I assure you we are safe to-”

Her remarks were interrupted as Thorin picked her up, carrying her bridal-style.

“You misunderstood my intent, my love. I was merely picking up your cloak so that others do not see it out here. We should at least wait until we get to my room to get undressed—for propriety’s sake.”

“For propriety’s sake,” Alaisia repeated with a giggle as she wound her arms around Thorin’s neck in satisfaction.

Thorin swiftly carried Alaisia inside and upstairs, casting her cloak aside as soon as the two entered his bedroom. He gently set Alaisia down on the edge of the bed. Alaisia appeared lost in thought.

“Are you having doubts?” Thorin asked with concern as he knelt in front of her. “If you are, we can wait as long as you need to.”

“No, of course not!” Alaisia quickly stammered as she looked down at Thorin. “I’ve just been looking forward to this, and dreaming about this, for such a long time that it doesn’t quite feel real...”

“I know the feeling,” Thorin said as he traced a line from Alaisia’s lips to her chest with his hand. “This is your first time?”

“Yes,” Alaisia whispered softly, “is it it your first time too?”

“It is,” Thorin mumbled. He chuckled at the sigh of relief that escaped Alaisia. “You wish to be the only woman that has ever claimed me?” Thorin teased.

“Guilty as charged,” Alaisia responded as she slid off of the bed and into Thorin’s lap to kiss him.

Thorin groaned happily and rested his hands on Alaisia’s slender waist. “We should take this slowly. I do not wish to hurt you.”

Alaisia smiled tenderly at Thorin, always the gentleman, before leaning in to kiss him deeply. Thorin’s hands brushed under the base of Alaisia’s tunic before he carefully removed it and cast it aside. Unable to restrain himself, Thorin eagerly tore off the binding that covered Alaisia’s breasts, and he pulled her closer to him as he kissed her with increasing desperation. Moaning contentedly, Alaisia ran her hands possessively over Thorin’s bare chest down to his waist where she swiftly undid his belt and flung it to the side. The two Dwarves rose and swiftly removed their remaining clothes, tossing them into a scattered pile on the floor as they moved toward the bed.

At the edge of the bed, Alaisia pulled back briefly to look at Thorin’s naked physique. He was truly perfect even with the scar from Azanulbizar, every inch the warrior King, and his darkened eyes betrayed a clear desire for Alaisia that made her heart race. Impatiently, Thorin ferociously reclaimed Alaisia’s lips as he closed the distance between them once more and placed his hands on Alaisia’s buttocks. Alaisia gasped as Thorin lifted her up and rested her on the bed. Thorin molded his body against Alaisia’s as he covered her in kisses. Alaisia grabbed Thorin’s waist and tugged it insistently closer to her as she rolled her hips against him and ran her tongue lightly over his lower lip.

Feeling braver, Alaisia pushed Thorin over onto his back and moved to straddle him, grinding against him before she bent over to press a searing kiss to his lips. Thorin placed his hands lovingly against Alaisia’s cheeks as he returned her kiss before he pulled Alaisia down on top of him and rolled her onto her side. Breathless from kissing, the pair broke apart and rested their foreheads together. Thorin stroked Alaisia’s cheek as she knotted her hands in his hair.

“I love you,” Thorin whispered hoarsely as he stroked small circles on Alaisia’s cheek with his thumb.

“I love you too,” Alaisia murmured in response.

Alaisia shifted her arms so as to embrace Thorin, peppering kisses all along his neck and shoulder blade. Thorin moaned and moved his hands to Alaisia’s lower back. He nudged Alaisia over onto her back and positioned himself on top of her.

“Are you ready?” He asked, his voice filled with desire.

“Yes,” Alaisia whispered as she reached up to kiss Thorin again.

“Tell me if you feel too much pain. My desire is not worth your injury, _amralime_ ,” Thorin assured Alaisia.

Alaisia smiled shyly, and Thorin positioned himself at Alaisia’s entrance and rested his hands on her sides before carefully entering her. He paused, startled by Alaisia’s sharp hiss of pain, but Alaisia raised her hands to his hips to keep him in place as she nodded. The pain gradually lessened and Alaisia rocked her hips against Thorin as the satisfaction of being truly joined with him at last enveloped her. As Thorin began to thrust, Alaisia whimpered his name and pulled him closer until she was able to kiss him. Alaisia hummed with pleasure at the feeling of Thorin’s beard rubbing against her chin as their kisses became increasingly desperate. Her hands roved over the muscular expanse of Thorin’s back as he continued his thrusts until the two lovers reached their climax.

Hoarse from calling out Alaisia’s name, Thorin slowly withdrew from Alaisia and lowered himself down onto the bed at her side. He pulled her into his arms and brushed his chin lovingly over her forehead as the pair panted from exertion. When his breaths slowed down once more, Thorin looked down at the woman in his arms.

“My Queen,” he murmured worshipfully as he kissed her brow. “I am yours for as long as you will have me.”

“That is well, my King, for I do not ever intend to let you go,” Alaisia said sweetly as she nuzzled closer into Thorin’s arms and allowed peaceful sleep to claim her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! Comments, reviews, and kudos are always welcomed. I'll update again later in the week.
> 
> Khuzdul translation: amralime = "my love" or "love"


	42. Unity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Alaisia wake up in bed together for the first time and discuss their future.

Alaisia arose at dawn, seeing the light filter through the makeshift covering Thorin had made for the window. He still lay beside her, naked, with a soft smile gracing his sleeping features. _I still cannot believe that he is mine,_ Alaisia thought giddily as she recalled the events of the previous night and looked down fondly at the ring gracing her hand. Alaisia moved to rest her head on Thorin’s bare chest, draping an arm and a leg over him as she curled contentedly around him.

“I am yours, my dear—you need not worry about claiming me.” Thorin mumbled sleepily, an almost goofy grin on his face.

“I am sorry, Thorin, I did not mean to wake you,” Alaisia whispered. “You can go back to sleep if you wish.”

“No,” Thorin began, “I’d rather do this,” he said as he moved on top of Alaisia. She laughed, a carefree laugh that she had seldom released since her upbringing in Dale, but was silenced as Thorin began kissing her in earnest.

The two broke apart rather reluctantly after some time and lay facing each other in bed, arms wrapped protectively around each other.

“We’ll have to get up soon,” Alaisia mumbled regretfully.

“Aye, but not quite yet. Do you want me to go with you to tell your parents about our engagement? Or will they be angry with me for not asking their permission first...and for what happened last night? And this morning, I suppose,” Thorin murmured sheepishly.

“You don’t have to worry, Thorin—I told them of my intentions earlier yesterday. We have their full approval. They expected me to be gone for the night.” She traced her fingers across Thorin’s chest absentmindedly. “What I am worried about is telling our people.” Truth be told, the prospect of becoming Queen somewhat frightened Alaisia. As a little girl, she had never dreamed of rising through the ranks into Dwarven royalty; she simply wished to continue her parent’s business and to live near those she loved.

“They don’t need to know about us making love,” Thorin reassured Alaisia with a sly smirk.

“It isn’t that, Thorin—only a handful of others know about my true ancestry. Are we going to tell everyone of my family’s past, or try to keep it a secret still? And will they even accept a common Dwarf as their queen? I do not feel well qualified, for lack of a better way of phrasing it.”

“You are hardly a common Dwarf, _amralime_. You gained prestige as a blacksmith and then as a warrior and captain during our war with the Orcs, and your family has always been respected. While I may have been raised to be King, I still feel unsure at times. We will ease into ruling together. As for your ancestry, I would hate for you and your family to continue keeping it a secret. I don’t know how the other Dwarves will react though...”

The pair lay in silence for a moment. “I have an idea,” Alaisia began slowly as she sat up in the bed. “What if we went to Rivendell, the two of us and perhaps some ‘chaperones’ for appearance’s sake, to try to establish trading relations with Lord Elrond’s people?”

“Like the days of old, when the Elves of Eregion traded with the Dwarves of Khazad-dum,” Thorin replied as he propped himself up on his elbows. “But what in Durin’s name would we have to offer them right now?”

“No weapons, of course—their steel is far superior to anything we could muster. That also means no armor. Our craftspeople are of many trades though. We have tailors, toymakers, inventors, and jewelers among us. The Elves saw designs of some of our work when our group was recovering there, and they showed more than a passing interest.”

“That could work,” Thorin mused, “we could go for an initial meeting, gauge interest, and work out the logistics of a trading partnership if possible.”

“In return, we could get food, seeds for growing crops, textiles, metals, and perhaps other resources that would help us establish a more secure base for our people.”

“And then we could reveal your Elvish ancestry, because other Dwarves would view at least the Elves of Rivendell with less animosity and they would see your connection as instrumental in promoting our prosperity,” Thorin realized.

“Precisely,” Alaisia grinned. “It may be a long shot, and people might still view me with disdain when they find out, but it is at least worth a try.”

“I think so too. Balin and Dwalin can accompany us, as well as my sister and your parents. Before we make for Rivendell, though, I think that we should send a raven to the Firebeards and Broadbeams. We will tell them that we have heard of the abandoned land and wish to establish a kingdom-in-exile there.”

Alaisia nodded. “Will we wait here to hear back from them?”

“No, I think that we should travel there to meet with them in person. The raven’s message should arrive well before us and give them adequate time to prepare for a meeting.”

Alaisia grew quiet for a moment. “I hope they do not oppose our request.”

“How can they? Neither house has claimed the land. If anything, we are doing them a favor as we will be restoring it and bringing additional trade in.”

“Very good point,” Alaisia said, “I suppose I am just anxious because the stakes are rather high. I want our people to thrive as much as possible, and of course I want to marry you as soon as possible.”

“I have chosen a good queen,” Thorin murmured with satisfaction. Alaisia grinned, and moved to pull Thorin to lie down on the bed again with her, allowing him to erase her worries as the two made love once more.


	43. The Morning After

Around noon, Thorin and Alaisia made their way downstairs with their hair and clothes still slightly rumpled. A small crowd consisting of Balin, Dwalin, Dis, and Alaisia’s parents was gathered around the table in the kitchen.

“It’s about damn time,” Dwalin remarked with a mischievious glint in his eyes. Thorin and Alaisia turned beet red in unison.

“Well, we are engaged now, but I suppose you already inferred that from the circumstances...” Alaisia mumbled awkwardly as she glanced down at the disheveled state of her clothes.

“We are so happy for you both,” Alaisia’s mother said.

“You were already like a sister to me, but it is more official now. Congratulations to both of you,” Dis said with a warm smile.

“Thank you,” Alaisia replied, her earlier sheepishness now replaced with a broad smile. She turned to look at Thorin and squeezed his hand.

“We have other news as well,” Thorin declared.

“Are you expecting a Dwarfling already? There was quite a lot of moaning upstairs last night according to Dis here,” Dwalin asked with a smirk, earning a firm elbow in the ribs from Balin.

“No, we are not,” Thorin responded with a mock-glare. “Alaisia informed me of news that she heard on her last trip to Bree—there  is an abandoned kingdom near the lands of the Firebeards and Broadbeams in the Blue Mountans.”

“That kingdom could be a more suitable home for our people, and we could benefit from trade with nearby Dwarves,” Alaisia explained.

“A wise proposition,” Balin mused, “for the Firebeards and Broadbeams would benefit from our presence as well.”

“Aye,” Thorin agreed, “if no one opposes this idea, we shall send out a raven today ahead of our travels west. Alaisia and I are going, and the two of us wanted to invite the rest of you. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”

“It would not do for two newly engaged Dwarves to travel alone,” Balin mused. “Dwalin and I will both come along.”  

“We will come too, to represent the other craftspeople,” Thila said of her and Morak.

Dis cleared her throat. “I can come as well, but who will watch our people here in our stead?”

“Gloin and Oin can manage well enough. I will speak to them after this,” Thorin declared.

Dis frowned slightly still, letting a small sigh escape.

Something dawned on Alaisia. “You do not wish to leave Drayli,” she remarked with a knowing smile. Thorin looked at her with some surprise.

“Yes,” Dis said, “but I wish to travel to the Blue Mountains, and we are not yet engaged. This seems like a journey that should be reserved for members of our family.”

“That may be true, but I do not think it will be too long before you two are engaged, and it never hurts to have another capable fighter around. You can go find Drayli and tell him that he is welcome to join us,” Thorin offered.

Dis beamed from ear to ear, and flushed slightly. “Thank you, brother.”

“Wait, before you go–” Alaisia looked at Thorin and whispered “Rivendell” to him before continuing. He nodded. “Thorin and I also discussed travelling to Rivendell after our meeting with the Firebeards and Broadbeams. The purpose would be to establish some sort of a trade agreement, and to procure whatever aid they are willing to offer us for our people’s journey westward.”

“We would only stand to benefit, as would the Elves, and obtaining needed aid from them would make it easier for Alaisia to reveal her family’s past instead of hiding it in fear. You are all welcome to come to that meeting too, but you do not have to go if you do not wish to. Drayli is welcome there as well because he knows of Alaisia’s ancestry.”

“If it will help Alaisia, and if there is a chance that the Elves might give us something useful, I suppose I am in. I have no particular quarrel with the Rivendell Elves,” Dwalin said gruffly.

“I for one have long wished to see the library of Rivendell, so I will come as well,” Balin declared.

“Drayli spoke highly of Rivendell, and of his time there. I will also join you,” Dis said.

“I would love to return to Rivendell,” Morak said excitedly as Thila nodded.

“Then we are agreed,” Thorin replied. “Gather what supplies you can for our travels.”

~~~

Thorin stepped aside to speak with Alaisia’s parents shortly after the others departed to prepare for their impending journey.

“I hope that you are not upset with me, or with Alaisia, for any reason. I have the utmost respect for both of you and would never mean to offend you,” Thorin said humbly.

“Please do not worry, Thorin—Morak and I expected this! Alaisia has been in love with you for years now. You know, for the longest time she wouldn’t admit to herself or to us that she had deep feelings for you because she was terrified that you wouldn’t return her feelings,” Thila explained.

“She also clung to the stubborn conviction that she was not worthy of you, or that you should have a noble Dwarf-maid as your wife,” Morak added.

“I guessed some of that after talking to her last night. Was that why she seemed so lost in thought at times, especially on our journey westward to Dunland?”

“Probably,” Thila responded with a grin.

Thorin chuckled in amusement. _We were both so foolish. I should have pronounced my love to her when we found each other after the Dragon’s attack_ , he thought.

Morak looked at Thila before speaking to Thorin again. “Our only request is that you never hurt our daughter again the way that you did after the battle at Azanulbizar. Neither of us wishes to see her as heartbroken and despondent as she was again. I do not think you would, but I still needed to say it.”

Thorin bowed humbly. “I give you my word that I will show your daughter nothing but love. She does not need my protection, but I will defend her with my own life if ever it comes to that.”

“Then welcome to the family,” Morak beamed.

Smiling to himself, Thorin spoke again. “How do you prefer me to address you now that you are to be my parents by marriage? Should I call you ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’, or do you prefer that I continue to address you by your first names?”

“That is for you to choose, Thorin—neither of us would want to make you uncomfortable by asking you to refer to us as your parents if you do not wish to,” Morak said.

Thorin thought carefully for a moment. _I have not had a mother for many long years, and my father is lost somewhere, perhaps never to be found._ His father’s absence was still a raw wound, but Thila and Morak had never shown Thorin anything but kindness and support. _They are my family now too,_ Thorin realized. _I can have a mother and father again_.

 “I shall call you ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ then,” Thorin decided, “thank you.”

“There is one condition, though,” Thila said. “You must give us grandchildren at some point.”

“Of course!” Thorin said. “Although it may be some time before that happens...”

“That is fine, I guessed that it would be a bit of a wait,” Thila replied with a soft smile.

Thorin bid them farewell, his heart content, before he went to seek out Alaisia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone reading this story! Unfortunately, I need to take a brief break from posting for a bit (possibly until 6/13) as I'm graduating college in the next couple of weeks and have a lot of end-of-year assignments to wrap up for classes. I promise I'll be back with updates once things settle down.


	44. Westward Bound

Thorin and Alaisia walked ahead of the others, their hands tightly entwined, as their company made its way westward out of Tharbad. Alaisia looked down at the ring on her finger and smiled softly. Not so long ago, the possibility of marrying Thorin still seemed somewhat remote. Under Thror’s rule, Alaisia’s time with Thorin had become severely limited, and the tumult that followed Azanulbizar left little time for thoughts of love and marriage. Alaisia felt a sigh of relief pass her lips at her current circumstances. In spite of Alaisia’s anxiety over Thorin’s reaction, Thorin _had_ returned her love. They were engaged at last—the magnificent sapphire ring adorning her hand served as a reminder for Alaisia every time she felt that she must be dreaming.

_Hopefully the fortunes of our people will improve as well_ , Alaisia thought as she considered the group’s mission to secure a new kingdom in the Blue Mountains. The people had reacted much more kindly to the news of Alaisia and Thorin’s betrothal than Alaisia had expected.

“I’m still in disbelief that the other Dwarves accepted me as their future Queen,” Alaisia whispered to Thorin, voicing her wonder out loud. “I thought that I would be controversial. Of course, they do not yet know about my Elven ancestry so there is still the chance of discontent in the future...”

“ _I_ am still in disbelief that you thought they would not accept you. You will make a fine Queen, _amralime_. As for your Elven ancestry, I think that our plan to establish trade with Rivendell will help. Balin can also help—he is very measured, and quite adept at persuading people.”

“Thank you, Thorin,” Alaisia murmured. She stepped closer to Thorin and he slid his arm around her waist to hold her close as they walked.

“On another note, your parents want grandchildren,” Thorin teased. “They informed me as much when I spoke to them before we left.”

Alaisia sighed. “Yes, I know. I want children too, but I do not feel ready yet. I know it is particularly important given your position, for of course you shall need heirs, but are you all right with waiting a for a time after we get married? I want to enjoy being married for a time first, and I feel that I need time to settle into the role of Queen before bearing children and raising them to be heirs to the throne.”

“I would have asked you the same thing,” Thorin responded with a chuckle. “I’m not yet ready to be a father. I, too, wish to enjoy our new relationship, and to establish a more stable home, before bringing children into our story. We shall have plenty of time for that later.”

Alaisia kissed Thorin on the cheek, and nuzzled her head into his shoulder. “I am glad that we are in agreement on that.”

Around sunset, the Dwarves halted their journey and set up camp for the eve in a small forest. After dinner, Alaisia unfurled her bedroll next to Thorin’s, and she soon felt his familiar, slightly calloused hands on her own.

 “Why in Mahal’s name would you bother setting up a separate bedroll?” Thorin queried with mock indignance as he looked at Alaisia’s work.

Laughing, Alaisia responded “I suppose it is just a vestige of old habit, _amralime_. I am weary from the day’s journey.”

The pair pushed their bedrolls together, making a much larger and more comfortable place for sleeping, and removed their cloaks to serve as blankets before they reclined onto the makeshift bed.

“You know, if I had known that confessing my love to you would allow me to gain extra warmth from your cloak, I may have done so some time ago,” Alaisia teased. Thorin pulled her closer so that her back was flush against his chest, and her head was nestled in his neck.

“If I do recall, you’ve had the warmth of my cloak at least once before. Remember when you went into that icy river to rescue a drowning dwarrow not long after we fled Erebor and Dale?”

“You were furious with me for risking my safety,” Alaisia murmured, “and then so gentle with me later, when you came to understand my actions. I believe I fell asleep in your arms. I should have known then that you loved me.”

Thorin nuzzled Alaisia’s head, remembering the fear for her safety that had seized him when he saw her enter that river. “You were safe. That is all that matters.”

Alaisia pulled Thorin’s arms to her more closely. “I must admit that I grow anxious for our meeting with the Firebeards and Broadbeams. Do you think that they will welcome us and grant us what we seek?”

“I certainly hope so,” Thorin mused, “for I know not what to do if they should refuse.”

~~~

Unfortunately, the Dwarves’ journey to the Blue Mountains was not entirely without hardship as the first day was. A torrential downpour plagued their passage for several days, forcing them to slow down and leading to poor Balin catching a cold. Once the sun broke through the clouds and the rain ceased, their nights were filled with the howls of wolves, and on one evening the wolf pack that had been following Thorin’s company decided to attack as the Dwarves were roasting their dinner. While the Dwarves fended off the beasts successfully, none slept easily that night.

When Alaisia, Thorin, and their kin entered Hobbiton all released a collective sigh of relief. They had not originally planned to rest there for the night, but given the harrowing nature of the past few nights, they were glad at the chance to sleep in an actual inn for the night. Alaisia looked around fondly as she made her way toward the Green Dragon Inn with the others. It was her first time in Hobbiton, but she hoped it would not be her last. Everything was so peaceful, so quaint, and based on her dealings with Hobbits when trading in Bree, the Shirefolk seemed like a genial and interesting lot. Some clearly had a penchant for adventures based on their fascination with Dwarvish armor and weapons, although Alaisia very much doubted that the most dangerous adventure for a Hobbit would come near to what her people had been through since Smaug’s attack.

Thorin had a troubled look on his face in spite of the cheery surroundings as well as the prospect of a warm bed and a supper other than wild game.

“What is the matter, Thorin? How can you _possibly_ be anything less than cheerful in such a place as this?” Alaisia asked, gesturing around at the idyllic village.

He sighed. “These folk have never seen war. In all honesty, I suppose that I am just a bit jealous...I wish that we could achieve this level of peace and prosperity for our people. Although farming and eating all the time would get rather boring...”

Alaisia softened. “Our people will prosper again someday, that I am sure of. These folk live simple lives, but perhaps we can learn something from their ways.”

“Aye, we can appreciate the comforts of home and family,” Thorin murmured fondly as he caressed Alaisia’s hand.”

~~~

Traveling from Hobbiton to the Blue Mountains felt much less difficult than the journey from Tharbad to Hobbiton. Calmer weather, and more abundant food, made the trek feel much shorter. The company ducked into a small, shallow cave for the night no more than a day’s march from the halls of the Firebeards.

Thorin noticed that Alaisia was lost in her thoughts, although it did not seem that she was displeased for Thorin observed a soft twinkle in her eyes. _Perhaps she is daydreaming about our future,_ Thorin thought. Curious to find out what was on his intended’s mind, Thorin knelt down gently next to her.

“What are you thinking of?” He asked.

“The Grey Havens, or Mithlond in the tongue of the Elves, are not far south from here by my reckoning. It is from there that Elves set sail for the Undying Lands. I was just thinking of how I have never actually seen the ocean, but how I always dreamed of visiting the ocean as a wee Dwarfling...” Alaisia murmured wistfully.

“When we are settled in our new kingdom, I promise you that I shall take you to see the ocean. Perhaps after our wedding, we can stay at the ocean for a few days, alone and uninterrupted,” Thorin replied with a wink.

“I would like that very much,” Alaisia agreed as she leaned in to kiss Thorin. She deepened the kiss hungrily, pulling Thorin closer to her and slipping a hand down to the hem of his shirt. The pair broke apart rather unceremoniously when a subtle cough from Dis embarrassingly reminded them that they were not alone in the cave.

“Let us hope that our hosts have private chambers for us,” Thorin chuckled as he brushed his thumb over Alaisia’s cheek.

Alaisia blushed in response and tugged on Thorin’s hand to lead him to their bedroll for sleep.

~~~

Around mid-afternoon the next day, the band of Dwarves reached the gates of the kingdom of the Firebeards. Thorin stood proudly and addressed the guards.

“I am Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, and King of Erebor in exile. With me are my intended Queen, Alaisia Glavrem, and our family. We sent a raven to announce our coming some weeks past. Are King Torbjorn Firebeard and King Hjalmar Broadbeam present?”

Alaisia blanched slightly at hearing Thorin introduce her as his future Queen. _I hope that I am ready for this_ , she thought worriedly. As if sensing her concern, Thorin grasped her hand firmly in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Alaisia returned the gesture gratefully, and let her hand linger in Thorin’s as the gate creaked open.

Behind the gate stood two regal Dwarves, one with a beard the color of dragonfire and one who looked to be more mountain than Dwarf with his broad stature. The guards announced them as King Torbjorn and King Hjalmar.

“Greetings, King Thorin of Erebor, and soon-to-be Queen Alaisia of Erebor. We welcome you and your family to our halls.”

Thorin lowered his head in polite acknowledgement, so Alaisia did likewise. She had been familiar with the customs of greeting royalty as a commoner, but the particulars of etiquette for greeting a fellow royal were rather hazy to her. Thorin introduced each member of their company before continuing.

“It has been long since we last met, King Torbjorn, and I am afraid that I have not made your acquaintance previously King Hjalmar.”

The mountain-like Dwarf, Hjalmar, laughed, a booming sound that Alaisia thought could well split solid stone. “There will be plenty of time to get to know each other at the welcome feast we have prepared for you all. Now that introductions are over, shall we dispense with formal titles? I find them suffocating.”

Alaisia smiled at that, and Thorin looked to her as if to encourage her to speak. Hoping desperately that she would not find herself tongue-tied, she nodded. “I concur. We would be delighted to join you at the feast, for our journey from Tharbad has been long. Thank you for your kind welcome.”

When Thorin looked at her, his eyes gleaming with pride, Alaisia felt her confidence return.

_Thorin is right. I am ready to be a Queen._


	45. Reminiscing about the Past

King Torbjorn’s halls, only the second Dwarven kingdom that Alaisia had set foot in, were quite different from Erebor. The floor was more rough hewn and not at all polished, while the paths were lit with fewer torches. Additional light filtered in from skylights carved into the mountain’s face and illuminated smooth columns painted in a reddish hue. Veins of silver and copper streaked across the walls like rivers of metal. It was beautiful in its own way, even if it was left much more natural than Erebor.

Before attending the banquet, the travelers from Tharbad were shown to guest quarters where they could rest and cleanse themselves. Alaisia noted with mild frustration that they still gave her and Thorin separate rooms and wondered with some consternation if it would be difficult for her to sneak into his room that evening. She had looked forward to having some privacy with him after so many days of traveling.

After Alaisia bathed, she saw that a maid had placed several bulky gowns on the bed. _They all look so different from anything that I wore in Dale or Rivendell,_ Alaisia thought wistfully. Still, the dresses were beautiful, and she selected a sapphire-colored one that for the evening. She had always favored blue, and with it being the color of her future husband’s house, the decision seemed all the more appropriate. As she struggled to tug the cumbersome dress over her head, she heard a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” she mumbled, her words muffled by the fabric.

“Only me,” Thorin responded playfully. “May I come in?”

Alaisia grunted as she tried to find the armholes in her dress. Thorin took that as permission to enter and walked in, closing the door quietly behind him. He chuckled when he saw Alaisia.

“Do you require assistance, _amralime_?” he asked with some amusement.

“Yes,” Alaisia murmured sheepishly. Thorin helped her to pull the dress on and laced it in the back, being careful to not make the laces overly tight.

“Is that comfortable now?” Thorin questioned.

Alaisia looked at herself in the mirror. The dress, made of a rather stiff material, flared out at the bottom but hugged her chest snugly. It was adorned with silver embroidery in a geometric pattern over the bodice. Alaisia had taken the braids out of her hair for her bath so that it now hung down in curly waves.

“Yes, I think so. It has been so long since I last wore a dress, and I do not recall ever wearing something quite like this one. I always favored less cumbersome attire with more organic patterns.”

Thorin brushed a wayward strand of hair from Alaisia’s face and tucked it behind her ear fondly.

“Do not worry—you look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear.

“Thank you,” Alaisia answered as she kissed Thorin’s cheek. “Shall we make our way toward the main hall?”

“Aye,” Thorin replied, “and let us hope that the friendly demeanor of our hosts bodes well for our efforts to secure a new kingdom.”

Alaisia nodded as she looped her arm through Thorin’s. The pair began walking down the long hallway, but they stopped when they heard a frustrated wail from the next room over.

“That would be Dis,” Thorin laughed. “I know that sound well. That is the sound that she makes when her hair is tangled in knots and she is unable to fix it.”

“Have you helped her before?” Alaisia asked as she stifled a giggle.

“I have tried, only to make an even greater mess. Do you want to give her a hand?”

“I shall do my best,” Alaisia offered.

“May you have better luck than I generally do,” Thorin solemnly said before breaking into a grin. “While you try to sort that out, I will go find Drayli and see if he is ready for dinner.”

Alaisia gently eased the door to Dis' room open. “Do you need some help?” Alaisia enquired as she walked into Dis’ room.

Startled out of her frustration, Dis turned to face Alaisia with her hair a frazzled mess, and nodded with a sheepish look on her face.

“I tried to take down my braids to re-do my hair, but my hair was so tangled and matted from traveling that I fear I made things worse. Everything is in knots,” Dis griped as she handed Alaisia the brush. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course, that is what sisters are for!” Alaisia responded as she began working through the tangles. She sighed. “Time goes by so quickly. I still remember meeting you for the first time in Erebor when you were a wee dwarfling chasing your brothers around. It feels like a lifetime ago now.”

Dis laughed. “I remember that, and I remember when Thorin came home after meeting you for the first time. I could tell even then that he was smitten with you from the way his eyes shone as he talked about you.”

“He and I were both too foolish to realize it for a time, even though it was clear from our interactions with each other.” Alaisia paused for a moment. “In truth, I even began to see you as a little sister before my relationship with Thorin was official.”

“You have been like a sister to me for many years as well. I think I started seeing you as the older sister that I had always wanted when you managed to persuade my brothers that I should learn how to fight, and you helped to teach me.” Dis’ face fell when she mentioned her brothers.

“What is it?” Alaisia asked with concern.

“I miss Frerin so much still. I wish that I had been there at Azanulbizar. Perhaps I could have helped somehow...”

“Do not say such things, Dis. There is nothing that you or anyone could have done to change the events of Azanulbizar unless we had the gift of foresight, and perhaps the same outcome would have occurred even then. If you had been there, you could have fallen too. Frerin would not want you to feel guilty for not being there, and he would not want you to dwell in sorrow.”

“Thank you,” Dis mumbled as she dabbed at her tears.

“You are most welcome. I miss Frerin dearly too. He was like a little brother to me, and we fought alongside each other in several battles during the war against the Orcs.”

“He would be happy that you and Thorin finally got together,” Dis said with a wry laugh. Frerin and I had started a running bet on how long it would take.”

“Oh really?” Thorin asked with a raised brow as he walked into the room.

“Thorin!” Dis yelped with embarrassment.

“Fear not, little sister, I find the bet amusing,” Thorin smirked as he walked over to Dis and Alaisia.

“Are you all ready to go to dinner yet? I’m famished!” Drayli called from the door.

“Yes,” Dis said as she stood, “Alaisia managed to sort out my hair at last. Thank you, sister.” Dis hugged Alaisia, and Alaisia returned the hug fondly before releasing her and turning to Thorin.

Thorin waited until Dis was at the door with Drayli before speaking to Alaisia. “You are an excellent older sister to her,” he whispered tenderly, “as you were to Frerin.”

“I wish he were here still,” Alaisia murmured.

“So do I,” Thorin responded with a sigh, “but he would want us to look to the future. Let us hope that this dinner is productive, for our people’s sake.”


	46. Feast of the Three Houses

Thorin’s company found a merry gathering when they entered the banquet hall of King Torbjorn. Nobles and common folk were seated at various tables throughout the room while some danced to cheerful music from a small band. Several kegs of ale stood at the periphery of the room. Torbjorn and Hjalmar rose from the largest table, crafted from a large slab of granite, and motioned Thorin’s company toward them. Alaisia and Thorin took seats opposite one another near the head of the table where the two Kings were seated.

“Thank you for preparing this feast for us. This reminds me of some of the feasts that Lord Girion used to hold in Dale, ere the dragon came,” Alaisia remarked.

“I did not realize that you hailed from Dale, Alaisia,” Hjalmar replied, “Your city took the first brunt of Smaug’s anger from the tales that I have heard. I am terribly sorry for your loss.”

Alaisia inclined her head in gratitude as she murmured her thanks to Hjalmar, not trusting her voice on the subject of Smaug to say very much more. It had been many years since Smaug’s attack, but the pain still felt as fresh as if it had occurred a few days prior at times. Noticing Alaisia’s unspoken desire for the subject to change, Torbjorn spoke next.

“The noble house of Durin and its subjects have long been without any suitable home, and that is something that must be remedied. You should not have to dwell among the forlorn buildings of Tharbad or rely on contract work with human villages to survive. Our two houses failed to aid you during the war against the Orcs, and for that we owe you a great debt. The abandoned kingdom to the south, across the Gulf of Lhun, shall be yours.”

Speechless, Alaisia looked at Thorin who was clearly also somewhat surprised at the ease of conducting business.

“We are grateful for your kind and generous offer and gladly accept. Are there any terms to this arrangement?” Thorin asked.

“Perhaps we could trade with your people, depending on how rich in resources our new kingdom is,” Balin mused.

“Aye,” Hjalmar responded, “in return for granting you those halls, we would like to establish trade between our kingdoms, as well as draw up a treaty to come to one another’s aid should any of our three kingdoms be threatened by any outside threat.”

“Fair terms,” Thorin assented. “How do we reach the kingdom?”

“I have maps of the region in my library that my scribes have copied for your use. Hjalmar and I have each designated several Dwarves to accompany you to your new home. You shall take a small ship across the Gulf and then continue on ponies that you may keep from there. Once you reach the kingdom our soldiers will return to our own halls, but they will leave you with some basic mining and construction tools,” Torbjorn stated.

“Thank you,” Thorin bowed his head in respect. “I am glad that we have come to an agreement so easily, and to know the generosity of our new neighbors to the north.”

“What does the terrain around the new kingdom consist of? Are there water sources and forests nearby?” Balin asked.

“We sent scouts south shortly after receiving your raven to investigate the area. Dense forests exist on the eastern side of the mountains where your new halls are, as well as a small lake and several springs. The old doors to the kingdom are caved in. Our men will help you clear the rubble before they return to us,” Hjalmar explained.

“Are there any Dwarves living in the area?” Alaisia queried.

“Indeed, there are many miners in the southern reach of the mountains. You will need to determine whether they wish to remain independent or if they will pledge their loyalty to you. They seemed harmless enough according to our scouts,” Torbjorn replied.

“That is good to hear,” Balin said, “for we lost many good Dwarves during the war.”

“Their loss was not in vain. We will establish a new kingdom, regather our strength, and prepare to someday reclaim the homes that we lost in Erebor and Dale,” Thorin declared.

All shared a toast at Thorin’s words. After dinner, Thorin held out his hand for Alaisia to join him in dancing. He held her gently in his arms as the two swayed to the music. Alaisia rested her head on Thorin’s shoulder and draped her arms around him, exhaling contentedly as she nestled into him.

“Remember the last time we danced? It seems so long ago now, back when I first returned from Rivendell,” Alaisia whispered. “I was so happy to be with you again.”

“Aye, I remember. I wanted to kiss you then, but my grandfather interrupted us.” Thorin grimaced at the memory of the interruption and all of the turmoil that followed. “Still, I enjoyed dancing with you then, as I am enjoying our dance now. I would prefer moving to a more private location soon, however. We have had no chance to be alone together since that night at the Green Dragon Inn, and we were interrupted then by a rather prudish innkeeper who insisted that we stay in separate rooms.”

Blushing lightly, Alaisia responded. “My room or your room? We shall have to leave the banquet slightly apart from one another if we wish to maintain an illusion of propriety. I know not how these Dwarves would view premarital relations...”

“Your room,” Thorin murmured huskily as he kissed Alaisia’s cheek. “If you wish, you can bid our hosts good night first, and I shall follow shortly thereafter. The guest quarters are private enough that our hosts are unlikely to find out.”

Alaisia nodded and claimed Thorin’s lips in a heated kiss before departing to thank their hosts. She was happy to be leaving the feast anyways, for her fellow Dwarves were beginning to imbibe rather too much liquor as evidenced by the empty mugs scattered around the ale kegs, and they were becoming quite too loud for her taste in their drunken merriment and drinking games. After bidding Torbjorn and Hjalmar good night, Alaisia returned to her room to await Thorin. He arrived not long after her.

“You did not wait long,” Alaisia remarked from the bed with a small smirk on her face.

“Do you need help with that dress, my dear?” Thorin cheekily asked as he strode over to the bed, casually casting his belt and tunic carelessly aside as he did so.

“I hoped that you would ask,” Alaisia coyly responded as she rose to meet him. The young couple tenderly made love to one another in the candlelit room, each filled with more hope for their future than they had possessed in a long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I plan to post another chapter sometime tomorrow.


	47. Crossing the Gulf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaisia and Thorin see the ocean for the first time at the Gulf of Lhun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for posting this so late in the evening! I'll be back early next week with another update.

“It is time to wake up, love,” Thorin murmured in Alaisia’s ear, his beard tickling her skin there. A muffled groan was the only response that came. Thorin chuckled and lightly nipped at Alaisia’s ear before planting a series of kisses down her neck all the way to her collarbone. He disentangled himself from Alaisia and rose from the bed to dress. Missing Thorin’s warmth, Alaisia sighed and dragged herself out of the bed to change back into her traveling gear.

“I am very much looking forward to having a true home again, and a proper bedroom to share,” Alaisia wistfully said.

“So am I, Alaisia,” Thorin said. “We are moving closer to that goal with today’s journey. Before I came back last night one of the Dwarves that will be leading us to our new kingdom told me it would take a few days to reach our destination, but we will be reaching the Gulf of Lhun today.”

Alaisia’s face lit up. “Are we going to camp on the shores of the sea?”

“Aye, I believe so,” Thorin answered. “This does not alter my promise to take you to the sea after our wedding, unless of course you decide that you dislike the sea.”

The couple laughed at that and left their quarters hand-in-hand to join the others. To Alaisia’s delight, their hosts had prepared canteens with coffee for the journey. It was a luxury that their people had been unable to afford in their years of exile, but one that Alaisia sorely missed from her upbringing in Dale.

Their ride south took them along the eastern edge of the Blue Mountains through rolling hills and gentle plains dotted with wildflowers. The sun shone cheerily over the small party of Dwarves.

“It is as if spring comes early to these lands. All is so fair and verdant!” Thila remarked to her daughter.

“A significant improvement over Dunland and Tharbad,” Alaisia replied with satisfaction.

“The Blue Mountains will make a fine home, I think,” Morak added.

The travelers seldom stopped until the sun began to dip lower in the horizon. At that time, they paused to make camp for the night. The Gulf of Lhun glowed orange and pink under the light of the setting sun as waves gently lapped the sunkissed sand of the shore in front of them.

“The tides rise somewhat more over the course of the night, but we should be fine here on this hill,” Frafnir, a subject of King Torbjorn, explained. “Just ahead over there is the dock where we keep our boat for crossing the Gulf.”

Nearly bouncing with excitement, Alaisia discarded her boots and picked her way carefully down the hill and across the sand to make her way to the sea. She delighted in the feeling of sand squishing between her toes.

 _The ocean is even more magnificent in person_ , Alaisia thought. _I feel as if I could stare at it forever..._

Thorin’s presence at her side interrupted her thoughts. She turned to him and beamed.

“The sea is lovely, Thorin, is it not? I see why the Elves are so drawn to it.”

Thorin dipped his hand into the water to test the temperature. “Aye, but definitely not for swimming! This water is nearly as cold as fresh snow on a mountainside.”

“No, indeed,” Alaisia giggled. “I still wish to visit the ocean after we are married, Thorin. I want to see the open ocean, not simply a gulf, and to see how the light on the waves changes throughout the day.”

“Of course, _amralime_.”

~~~

Alaisia looked up at the wooden ship they were to take across the Gulf of Lhun. It seemed sturdy enough, but not as well-made as the fine ships of Dale and Lake-town in days past. _Still, it shall be quite a lot of fun to go sailing. I have only rarely been on a boat in the past_ , Alaisia recalled. Looking around, it was clear that not everyone shared her enthusiasm.

“What troubles you, Dwalin?” Alaisia asked with concern. Dwalin’s hand, which had been clenched at his stomach, dropped at Alaisia’s words.

“Nothing troubles me lass, I am just fine,” he muttered quickly with a furrowed brow.

“If you insist,” Alaisia replied, unconvinced by Dwalin’s words. She walked away to help Thorin lead the ponies on board.

“Dwalin is acting odd. Does he fear the ocean?” Alaisia whispered to Thorin.

“His stomach certainly does. Every lake or river crossing in the past has made him quite queasy,” Thorin explained with a chuckle. “Did you ask him about it? Avoid mentioning it to him if possible. He’s rather self-conscious about his motion sickness.”

Sheepishly, Alaisia replied “I did ask him, and he denied it.”

“That sounds like Dwalin,” Thorin laughed.

All of the Dwarves boarded the ship shortly thereafter and set sail across the Gulf of Lhun. The sun glinted off of the water, which took on a deep cerulean hue during the day. Thankfully, the water remained calm for their voyage and a gentle wind propelled them across.

Alaisia leaned back in Thorin’s arms as the two stood near the bow of the vessel. She sighed contentedly, and Thorin nuzzled the back of her head with his chin before kissing her hair.

“So Elves sail into the west, toward their homeland, and that is why they are drawn to the sea?” Thorin asked Alaisia. “Do you have the same...pull to the sea that they do?”

“No,” Alaisia replied. “Lord Elrond referred to it as the ‘sea-longing’ when I asked him about it. Valinor, the home of the Valar, is across the sea to the west. Elves are ever drawn there, so much so in some cases that if they even see the ocean they are insatiably drawn westward toward the sea until they make their voyage home. I just feel a sense of peace looking out at the ocean. I would never be allowed to sail to Valinor.”

“Why not? You are part Elven,” Thorin pointed out.

“I am, but my Elvish blood is rather diluted and I am more Dwarf than Elf. Never before has any Dwarf been allowed to sail to the Undying Lands. Nor would I wish to, even if I could, for that would mean being parted from you.”

“Do members of your family have a significantly extended lifespan like the Dunedain among Men?” Thorin quietly enquired.

“Closer to the union of Celebrimbor and Nalonis, yes. Some of my ancestors lived up to one hundred years longer than the average Dwarven lifespan of four hundred and fifty years. Not now, though. I suppose it is because we Dwarves are already blessed with long life, and we are not children of Illuvatar as are the Dunedain descendants of Numenor.”

Thorin seemed ready to speak again, but a loud retching sound from the rear of the ship interrupted him. He and Alaisia spun around and spotted the sound’s source—Dwalin, who was heaving mightily over the side of the ship. A string of Khuzdul curses that would impress even the most seasoned of sailors followed.

“I would never have guessed a strong Dwarf such as Dwalin to have a glass stomach,” Alaisia whispered as she giggled. “I really should not laugh, but it seems so improbable! Poor Dwalin.”

“Do not let him catch you laughing, unless you wish for him to challenge you to a brawl when he recovers,” Balin murmured with a twinkle in his eyes as he walked by Alaisia and Thorin.

“I definitely would not be able to beat Dwalin in a brawl. Swordfight, perhaps, given how he favors his axes,” Alaisia said as she quickly schooled her expression into one of sympathy for Dwalin.

“You are strong. I think that you could put up a fair fight,” Thorin replied as he pulled Alaisia close to his chest again.

 _I could stay here like this forever_ , Alaisia mused as she snuggled closer into Thorin’s arms. _Perhaps I shall have to ask Thorin to build me a boat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Dwalin with his sea sickness :(  
> Also, I know that the canon Dwarf lifespan is shorter than 450 years, but I extended it for this AU. I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!


	48. A New Kingdom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin, Alaisia, and their companions reach their new kingdom in the Blue Mountains.

Thorin urged his pony forward through the grassy woodland, eager to reach the new home of his people and inspect it for himself. _I hope that it is not wholly in ruins_ , Thorin thought concernedly. Even if the halls did turn out to be in shambles though, the short-term cost of rebuilding seemed well worthwhile in comparison to the prospect of lingering in Tharbad.

Frafnir called back to Thorin. “The kingdom is just ahead through this clearing!”

“Shall we?” Thorin asked Alaisia.

“Aye,” she replied with a grin as she urged her pony into a gallop. Thorin met her pace, and the pair soon reached the sunlit clearing. The surrounding woodland formed a protective circle around them, interrupted only by a sheer mountain face with a caved-in door.

 _Not as tall or as grand as Erebor’s main gate, but it will do well enough once it is repaired._ _Alaisia seems to like the sun and the trees_ , Thorin noted as he observed the glimmer of joy dancing in her eyes. Privately, he worried about whether Alaisia would be satisfied with life underground, for she had left Erebor so young that she had no memory of living there. Setting his concerns aside for the moment, Thorin dismounted from his pony and chivalrously offered his hand to Alaisia to help her down.

“We shall help you clear the rubble and then part ways. The lake is approximately a thirty minute’s walk to the south from here and has water well-suited for drinking. Many animals roam these forests, as you have seen on our ride, so you should find plentiful food,” Frafnir explained.

“Thank you all for your help,” Thorin said as he addressed the Firebeard and Broadbeam Dwarves.

They set to work clearing the rubble away from the door. Most of the former door was broken into mere rocks and smaller boulders that the Dwarves were able to move by hand or with ropes, but the rubble was piled almost to the top of the entryway, leaving only a small sliver of an opening at the top. It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning the mess that had been left. Thorin wondered if it had been caused by trolls attempting to break in or if the previous occupants had set off a small explosion to seal the kingdom behind them when they abandoned it. He hoped that they would find it undisturbed inside, and that whatever threat caused the gate collapse was long since gone. 

“We will take our leave now,” Frafnir said once the gate was open. “I wish you all good fortune in establishing your kingdom here. Send word to King Torbjorn and King Hjalmar when your people arrive here.”

“Aye, we will be in contact within the next few months hopefully. May you have a safe journey home,” Thorin said as he bowed deeply.

After the other Dwarves left, Balin turned to Thorin. “We should begin exploring and see if there is a secure place inside to camp for the evening. It looks as if it may rain later and the mountain is likely unoccupied, for I cannot imagine anything having been able to get through that rubble.”

“I agree,” Thorin assented as he handed out torches. “Since there are eight of us, we shall split into four groups of two: Alaisia and I; Balin and Dwalin; Dis and Drayli; and Thila and Morak. Let us explore in four directions and meet back here in a few hours. Look for valuable resources, facilities, living quarters, and any architectural weaknesses that need immediate attention.”

“Let us get to it, then,” Dwalin responded. “It will be interesting to see what this place can offer us. The stone looks study enough.”

“Aye, Alaisia and I will head straight ahead,” Thorin declared as he ventured inside. “It looks like there are passageways to either side as well. This area was once a grand hall.”

“Balin, do you know anything about the history of these halls?” Alaisia asked.

“Very little, lass, except that these halls have been abandoned for many years,” Balin answered as he scratched his beard. “Dwalin and I will go off to the left here.”

“We shall take the right passage,” Thila said of her and Morak.

Thorin nodded and addressed his sister and Drayli. “For now it seems that there are only three paths, so you two can follow Alaisia and I until the path diverges up ahead.”

The four Dwarves held their torches aloft to reveal their surroundings as they walked forward. Intricately carved columns supported a cavernous ceiling, and the path in front of them was made of worn marble tiles.

“There would be space enough in this entrance hall for a grand marketplace,” Drayli mused.

Thorin nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, this space will serve that purpose well. Minimal repairs are needed here. We will need stalls for merchants, though, before it is functional.”

“Look,” Alaisia whispered as she gestured ahead. Thorin turned to face the direction Alaisia was pointing in and inhaled sharply.

“This was once a grand kingdom,” he reverently murmured. Before them rose a broad marble staircase that ascended steeply toward a throne that seemed to be made of obsidian.

“We shall have to add a second throne, of course, of equal height” Thorin commented to Alaisia.

“Yes, but that is of lower priority. We need to see to living quarters first for everyone,” Alaisia replied.

 _I have chosen a fine Queen. She is more concerned about the people she is to rule than she is about her own luxury_ , Thorin thought fondly.

“It looks as if there are two paths diverging here,” Dis called from the landing at the top of the stairs. “Drayli and I shall go to the right.”

“Very well, Alaisia and I shall head left then,” Thorin announced. He followed after Alaisia down a long and narrow hall. He reached for her hand with his free hand as he caught up to her, causing Alaisia to startle slightly.

“What is wrong, love?” Thorin whispered with concern.

“Forgive me, _amralime_ ,” Alaisia whispered, “I am simply unaccustomed to the dark. I know we have these torches, but...”

 _Oh. I should have expected that she might startle more easily in the dark. She has never lived deep beneath the earth—she grew up in the sunlit streets of Dale._ Thorin decided to broach the topic of his earlier worry.

“I know that living inside a mountain will be difficult to adjust to at first. It will get better once we have ample lighting in here, even if it is not natural lighting. Perhaps there are balconies somewhere, or if not we can build some to make the outside more accessible. Skylights might be an option as well. We can ask the Firebeards for engineering advice on those,” Thorin reassured her.

“These halls will indeed be far less dreary once we have more light. How ironic that I, a Dwarf, would find it hard to adjust to life underground,” Alaisia muttered.

Thorin laughed at that. “You were raised among more humans than Dwarves, _amralime_. It is understandable.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “We should also investigate whether there is a second entrance and build one if there is not. When we had to evacuate Erebor, the only practical exit route was through the main gate.”

“Aye,” Alaisia agreed. She peeked into a room to the right. “It looks like this area used to serve as a kitchen and food storage area.”

“There are rooms with large stone tables over here,” Thorin called from the opposite side of the hallway. “Presumably they held banquets here, back when the kingdom was thriving.”

“When we are in Imladris, I want to go to the library to see if I can find anything else out about these halls. They do have a section of books on the history of the Dwarves,” Alaisia recalled as she joined Thorin once more in center of the path.

The pair walked on together, hands entwined, through the passageway. They passed many empty rooms, rooms with stone tables and benches, and more kitchens as they walked onward. As they rounded a corner, they came to a small overlook.

“I think that we found the mines,” Thorin guessed as he held his torch outward. “I am glad that we thought to bring along pickaxes from our hosts.”

“Shall we take a closer look?” Alaisia asked as she gestured at the descending stone stairs.

Thorin nodded and followed Alaisia down the stairs. They walked across a narrow path, trailing their hands on the rocky mountain walls, until the path widened out and they saw something glint in the torch light.

“Let us hope that it is something valuable,” Thorin muttered as he began chipping the wall to reveal the object. After some effort, a rough blue stone came loose into his hands.

Alaisia held the torch closer to examine the stone. “Sapphire,” she breathed as she looked at Thorin.

“If there are more precious stones in these mines, we will be well on our way to returning to prosperity,” Thorin said excitedly. “You take this,” he added as he placed the sapphire in Alaisia’s hand. “I have gotten you no gifts since our betrothal—let this be a start. I can polish it for you when we are settled in, and craft it into jewelry if you wish.”

“Sapphires are my favorite gemstone. Thank you, Thorin,” Alaisia murmured before she kissed Thorin in thanks.

“You are most welcome. Let us keep searching. If we find more stones we can sell them to get more supplies for our people’s journey west,” Thorin suggested.

As the pair searched on through the mines, they found a handful of other precious stones relatively close to the surface including rubies, sapphires, and opals.

“With this many stones so close to the surface, there are likely many more deeper in,” Alaisia realized.

Thorin nodded and held his torch up to look at the rock wall above them.

“Look,” he told her as he pointed up the rock face. Alaisia held up her torch to see better.

“Metal deposits,” she exclaimed.

“We will need to build a scaffold for mining as soon as possible. The Dwarves who used to live here must have had one, but these halls have been abandoned for so long that it probably rotted away,” Thorin said.

“Yes, once we have raw materials our craftspeople can get back to work. Should we head back to the others now? I think that we have been wandering for at least a couple of hours now, probably longer,” Alaisia said as she rested her pickaxe against the rock.

“We are probably going to be a bit late anyway,” Thorin carelessly answered as he cast his pickaxe aside. “I can think of something that I would rather do before heading back,” he whispered seductively with a hint of mischief in his eyes as he approached Alaisia and placed a hand at her waist.

“I know what you are suggesting, but do you not think that it will be somewhat difficult with these torches?” Alaisia replied teasingly as she raised her brow.

Thorin looked at his torch and cursed in Khuzdul. “You are right,” he muttered. “Perhaps we can sneak away for a short while tonight instead.”

Alaisia closed the remaining distance between herself and Thorin and kissed him passionately before whispering in his ear. “Yes, my King. Now let us go and return to the others.”

Thorin flushed slightly at that and grasped Alaisia’s hand tightly in his as the pair wove their way back out of the mines.

~~~

“You two are late,” Dwalin growled. “ We almost sent a search party out after ye.”

“Our apologies,” Thorin replied with a twinkle in his eyes, “but our search was productive.”

“Is that what the young folk call it now?” Balin asked mischievously.

“Nothing untoward happened, Master Balin,” Alaisia indignantly retorted. “We found kitchens and areas that could be used for food storage, as well as a banqueting hall and many empty rooms. However, we also found something of greater value.”

At that, Thorin opened the sack of gemstones for all to see. He grinned at the collective gasp of his companions as they observed the wealth within the bag.

“Rubies, sapphires, and opals. There were also metal deposits,” Thorin triumphantly announced.

“This will greatly bolster our trading efforts,” Morak declared. “Excellent find. Thila and I found a large gallery with smithying facilities, as well as a hall with a large statue.”

“We think that the statue is perhaps of Mahal,” Thila explained.

“It makes sense that there would be ample facilities for crafting given the apparent wealth of the mines,” Balin said. “Dwalin and I found many rooms. Some had stone bed platforms or stone bunks, but most were empty. There were some apartments and rudimentary bathrooms. That area could provide ample housing.”

“Aye, there were many levels of rooms up and down. Each level has a small pool of water at the end of the hall, although we will need to investigate whether the pools are connected to fresh spring water,” Dwalin revealed.

“That is excellent news,” Thorin exclaimed. “Dis, Drayli, what did you two find after you parted ways from us?”

“Elaborate apartments, some with large stone beds still in them, and a hot spring. It seems that the wing off to the right served as the living quarters of the nobles,” Drayli told the others.

“We also found a room that may once have been the treasury, though only a pittance of treasure was left. All of the valuables left fit into this sack,” Dis said as she opened the sack for the others to see.

“Even this, combined with the gemstones, will still go a long way in helping us to get supplies and tools to begin our work here. Good work,” Thorin praised his sister and Drayli.

“Well, it seems that this place will do well enough,” Balin said. “All of the basic amenities are here, and there are no major architectural concerns from the looks of it. We will need scaffolding and carts for the mines, new gates, furnishings, and torches for lighting these halls.”

“We also need to build a stable outside for the ponies and construct an area to keep livestock if we wish to keep other animals here at some point,” Drayli remarked.

“All of which is very feasible, though it may take some time,” Thorin replied. “To be honest, I am quite relieved. I was afraid that more substantial changes would be needed to make this place suitable for our people. Furniture can be produced with relative haste if we set enough Dwarves to the task. Let us move the rest of the equipment the Firebeards and Broadbeams gave us inside to a safe place and make camp here for the evening. We shall set out for Rivendell first thing in the morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for following this story! I'll post another chapter on Wednesday. For the remaining chapters, I plan to post according to a regular Monday/Wednesday schedule.


	49. Return to Imladris

Thorin yawned deeply, inspiring Alaisia to do the same.

“Perhaps you two would not be yawning quite so much if you had _slept_ more instead of sneaking away during the night,” Dis teased, causing Thorin and Alaisia to blush rather sheepishly.

“How in Mahal’s name did you-” Thorin began before he was cut off with a firm elbow from Alaisia.

“We snuck away while she was on watch, remember?” She whispered furtively to Thorin as she adjusted her clothing once more.

_Ah, I should have known better than to choose that time_ , Thorin realized with a fleeting sting of embarrassment. Pleasant memories of his midnight tryst with Alaisia filtered back into his mind unprompted. Instead of making love in the mines, as Thorin had proposed the previous day, they had gone to the obsidian throne to indulge their desire for one another. Thorin hummed contentedly as he recalled how he and Alaisia had frantically torn each other’s clothes off, as well as the heated kisses that followed when Alaisia straddled his lap on the throne. The knowledge that they likely would not have any time alone together until Rivendell at earliest had only further fueled their passion.

Thorin snuck a bemused glance at his betrothed.

“I do not know if I will ever be able to calmly look upon that throne again,” Thorin mused as he quirked his eyebrow upward at Alaisia.

“Probably the last chance we’ll have to do that,” Alaisia quipped mischievously as she rolled up her half of the bedroll.

Thorin chuckled and ignored the disgusted eye-roll that Dis tossed toward Alaisia and himself. The company of Dwarves scoffed down a quick breakfast and packed their belongings hastily for they were eager to set out on the long journey to Rivendell. Traveling across the Great East Road felt less tiresome with the knowledge that a more secure future awaited his people, but Thorin still felt relieved when they drew closer to the Misty Mountains with nary a sighting of an Orc. While the War of the Dwarves and the Orcs failed to allow the Longbeards to return to Khazad-dum, it had resulted in the decimation of Orc populations in the area.

_At least some good came out of that war,_ Thorin thought as he looked bitterly at the Misty Mountains in the distance. The war had taken so much from him personally, as well as from those he loved, but it had undeniably made the West of Middle-earth safer. _May there be many long years of peace_ , Thorin hoped.

He looked ahead to his future parents-in-law. Thila and Morak were stationed at the front of the group of Dwarves as Alaisia and Drayli had both been injured when last they entered Rivendell and therefore did not recall the way into the Elven city. In the midst of a rocky plain with scattered trees, Thorin startled as he heard the sound of horses galloping toward them. He turned to the side to see two cloaked forms rapidly advancing toward them.

“Be ready for an attack!” Thorin urgently hissed. “We know not if they are friend or foe.”

“Look closer, Thorin,” Balin calmly said as the figures rode nearer. “I do not believe these two bear us any ill will.”

Thorin frowned and barely restrained his hand from straying to his sword’s hilt. He observed the two figures more closely as they cast off their hoods, revealing identical faces, long brown hair, and pointed ears. Their ornately engraved silver armor artfully reflected the sunlight. _Elf twins_ , Thorin realized. His old prejudices against the Elves threatened to surge forth, but Thorin remembered that these were likely Rivendell Elves, and therefore friends to his people—or so he hoped they would continue to be, as they had been in the past when they saved Alaisia. _They are not Thranduil or his accursed woodland folk_ , Thorin mentally reminded himself.

“Greetings, friends,” one Elf called cheerily.

“Do we look upon the company of Thorin Oakenshield and Alaisia Glavrem?” the other queried.

“If so, it is our pleasure to escort you all to Imladris,” the first one finished with a polite bow from his horse.

Thorin glanced over at Alaisia and gave her a quizzical look when he did not see a telltale flicker of recognition. _Did she not meet these Elves when she was there? They seem to merely be guessing at our identity._ The two brothers bore a strange resemblance to Lord Elrond, although Thorin could not be certain since he had only met the Elf-lord once. Alaisia seemed to make the same connection after some thought.

“Are you two lords Elladan and Elrohir perhaps?” Alaisia guessed. When they nodded, she addressed the other Dwarves. “These are the twin sons of Lord Elrond. While I heard many tales of their adventures from their father and sister, I did not have the chance to meet Lord Elladan or Lord Elrohir on my last visit to Rivendell, for they were in Lothlorien visiting their grandparents.”

Alaisia turned back to the twins and bowed slightly on her pony. “I am Alaisia Glavrem. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I am Thorin Oakenshield,” Thorin spoke slowly, still not entirely used to introducing himself with the name that others ascribed to him after Azanulbizar. “Thank you for coming to meet us, my lords.”

“We care not for formal titles,” Elladan replied.

“Indeed, it is far better to dispense with unnecessary formality!” Elrohir added enthusiastically.

_They seem rather cheerful for Elves,_ Thorin thought with grudging amusement.

Thorin introduced the remainder of his company, and the Dwarves followed the two Elves back to Imladris.  They came to a narrow bridge, wide enough only for a single horse to bear its rider across, that had two Elven soldiers standing guard at the end. The sight of the Bruinen flowing swiftly below made Thorin somewhat ill-at-ease as he crossed the bridge. Once he had crossed and was waiting for the others to follow suit, Thorin took the opportunity to observe his surroundings. He saw that the valley was adorned with waterfalls and trees, all of which were cast in a soft golden hue from the setting sun. Improbably delicate buildings that looked almost like lace fanned out in the city in front of him.

_I can see why Alaisia is so fond of this place_ , Thorin thought as they entered a circular plaza with a fountain at its center. _It is beautiful, even if it was crafted by Elves_. He cast a glance over at her and saw that her eyes were wide with wonder, shining happily as she took in the sights of Rivendell. Alaisia swiftly dismounted her pony and handed its reins to a nearby Elf who offered it a fresh apple as he led it away toward the stables. Thorin dismounted and walked over to his fiancee.

“Are you happy to be back?” he asked as he gently took her hands and kissed them.

“Aye, and happy to have you at my side. I missed you desperately the last time I was here. There are so many things that I wish to show you during our time here!”

“And ample time there shall be!” Elladan remarked as he went to address Alaisia.

“But first, you all are invited to dine with our father, for the hour grows late, and we have heard much of the appetite of Dwarves,” Elrohir added with a wink.

Alaisia squeezed Thorin’s hand excitedly as they followed Elladan and Elrohir up a set of stairs. Other Elves came to show the company of Dwarves to their quarters, and Alaisia noted with delight to Thorin that the two of them had been given the same room she inhabited last time. A wardrobe in the corner had been stocked with Elven garments for both of them.

“I am surprised that they had clothes to fit us,” Thorin remarked as he looked at the Elvish finery in the wardrobe. “It is also surprising that they did not frown upon placing us in the same chamber. Do they mistakenly believe us to be married already?”

“Elves lack the qualms about premarital sex that some Dwarves still cling to,” Alaisia said with a shrug of her shoulders as she sifted through the dresses to find one for dinner. “As for the clothes...I know that last time some of my clothes were Arwen’s when she was younger and shorter. Perhaps yours belonged to Elladan or Elrohir, or some other growing Elf once,” she whispered teasingly.

Thorin grunted and stubbornly put the outfit that he had chosen back in the armoire.

“You can’t be serious, Thorin. You are caked in mud. Swallow your pride for a bloody moment and wear something suitable to dinner so that you do not insult our hosts! These are finer clothes than we have seen in a long while.”

Grumbling slightly, but knowing Alaisia was right, Thorin pulled out a simple silk tunic and clean pants to wear to dinner. He turned around when he was done and saw that Alaisia was in an elegant crimson silk dress.

“See? Not so bad,” Alaisia said as she straightened out the collar on Thorin’s shirt. “You look quite handsome in this.”

“Perhaps I should be less stubborn,” Thorin mused as he took Alaisia’s arm and led her out of the room.

“Perhaps,” Alaisia smiled as she tugged her intended’s arm closer.

~~~

Alaisia guided Thorin to the formal dining pavilion where the other Dwarves and their Elven hosts were already gathered. Lamps flickered around the perimeter of the pavilion, adding their light to the quickly fading dusk, while trees cast shadows over the mosaic adorning the ground. The dining area had not changed much since her last visit to Imladris, a notion that Alaisia found oddly comforting. _Perhaps it should not be odd that I would find small continuities comforting_ , Alaisia mused. _Our lives have been filled with change. Seeing one place remain very much the same brings me peace._ Alaisia beamed as she saw two old friends rise from the main table and approach them.

“It is a pleasure to see you both again,” Alaisia greeted as she inclined her head respectfully toward Elrond and Arwen.

“We are glad to see you and your kin again as well,” Elrond warmly replied. He turned to Thorin. “Welcome to Rivendell, Thorin Oakenshield. I hope that your stay here may somewhat mend your opinion of our kind, and show you that not all Elves are as aloof as King Thranduil.”

_I had not thought to hear him speak so openly against the Elvenking_ , Alaisia thought as she blinked in surprise.

Thorin was evidently rather taken aback as well, but he recovered well enough to answer. “My opinion is already changed. I have you to thank for saving my Queen, and I look forward to seeing more of Rivendell during our stay here.” He smiled when Alaisia grasped his hand in approval.

Lord Elrond nodded, smiling briefly before turning to his daughter. “You also have Arwen Undomiel, my daughter, and Lindir, my steward, to thank for Alaisia’s care and recovery.”

“I am glad to meet you both,” Thorin said as he bowed his head in gratitude.

Alaisia and Thorin followed Elrond, Arwen, and Lindir to the large round table where the other Dwarves and Elrond’s twin sons were seated.

“You must tell us of the events that have befallen you since our last meeting,” Arwen said to Alaisia and Thorin.

“We waged war on the Orcs, culminating in the victorious but deadly Battle of Azanulbizar,” Alaisia began.

“Indeed, we owe you a debt of gratitude for the blow that you dealt to the Orcs of the Misty Mountains,” Elrond murmured. “And while the Goblins did not partake in the war, it seems that the death of so many Orcs scared them further underground, for few reports from travelers have spoken of trouble with Goblins since the Battle of Azanulbizar.”

“Your forces helped as well,” Drayli spoke up. “You prevented Orcs ranging down from the mountains from attacking our army in the rear, and kept the roads west of the Misty Mountains safe to travel during the war. Our army’s casualties, and civilian casualties, would undoubtedly have been higher during the conflict were it not for your aid.”

“Nevertheless, I do regret that we did not do more to assist you,” Elrond answered as he rubbed his brow. “I realize now that a fight I saw as merely yours had bearing on all of us.”

“If I may ask,” Alaisia interjected, “what has changed with the Elvenking Thranduil?”

Elrond chuckled as he looked over at her. “I thought that you might ask me about that. We heard word from scouts that Orcs fleeing the mountains after Azanulbizar were traveling toward the Greenwood. A darkness grows in that forest, and we feared for the safety of those living in Rhovanion, including Thranduil and his folk.”

“What did you do?” Thorin asked.

“We implored him to send out Elven warriors to attack and destroy the remainder of the forces before they regained strength or scattered beyond easy reach, even offering to send some reinforcements to assist him,” Elrond muttered.

“And Thranduil’s only response was to withdraw all of _his_ people to his palace,” Elladan explained.

“He lets the Orcs roam free, and unsettling rumors of Orcs flocking to the old fortress at Dol Gudur grow as he hides in his palace,” Elrohir finished bitterly.

“That is troubling news indeed,” Alaisia grimaced as she responded.

“Have you heard any word of my father?” Thorin asked eagerly. “His body was not among the dead...”

“Rumors had reached me of his mysterious disappearance. I have not heard anything regarding his whereabouts or fate, nor have my scouts, but if we do you shall be the first to know,” Elrond assured him.

Alaisia squeezed Thorin’s hand when she saw his face fall. _I hope that the fleeing Orcs did not take Thorin’s father captive. If Thrain is alive, we shall find him someday. We must do so. He was too honorable a Dwarf to abandon him to the wilds of Middle-earth._

Arwen, sensing Thorin’s distress at the uncertainty surrounding his father, redirected the conversation. “Your letter said that your settlement was laid to waste by the Dunlendings?”

“Aye, burned to the ground by the time we got back from the battle,” Alaisia whispered.

“From there we set out to the old Numenorean city of Tharbad,” Balin continued. “That city has not fared very well over the years, I’m afraid. It worked well enough as a temporary camp for our people, but it is by no means a permanent dwelling.”

“So you are venturing further west, to the Ered Luin,” Arwen said.

“Was your visit with the Firebeards and Broadbeams successful?” Elrond asked.

“It was,” Thorin replied with satisfaction, recovering from his earlier worry. “They have given us control of the abandoned kingdom, and we have just come from that kingdom. That brings me to the purpose of our visit: we wish to establish some sort of trading relationship with you.”

“The Elves of Eregion once had a prosperous trading arrangement with the Dwarves of Moria,” Lindir remarked.

“Indeed, I agree that such a venture between our people and yours could prove beneficial,” Elrond offered as he looked between Alaisia and Thorin. “What would you propose to trade?”

“We have among us many skilled craftspeople, so we could trade textiles and wood-crafted goods. After our exploration of our new kingdom, however, we have something more valuable to offer in trade,” Thorin explained as he placed the bag of gemstones on the table and took out one to pass to Lord Elrond.

Interest piqued, Elrond answered “And in return, what goods would you seek from the Elves?”

“Primarily food and other basic goods or tools at first to aid in our efforts to resettle our people. Later, we could perhaps expand into crafted wares and other specialty goods produced by your merchants,” Thorin proposed.

“This will also help you gain acceptance of your Elven heritage among your people,” Arwen commented to Alaisia. “You hope to not have to hide your descent from Celebrimbor any longer.”

“Yes, that was our hope, as well as that we would be able to gather the supplies necessary for our people’s journey westward. We can trade you all of the gems in this bag today in return for supplies,” Alaisia suggested.

“That will not be necessary,” Elrond declared. “Keep those, and sell them to obtain other goods and tools that you might need. We will give you food for the road as well as seeds and gardening implements so that you may begin to grow your own food when you reach your new home. My children and I shall accompany you when you return to Tharbad so that we may assuage any doubts that might arise about our trading partnership.”

“Our good humor will surely win over any doubtful Dwarves,” Elladan jested as he looked at Elrohir.

“Thank you for your generosity,” Thorin whispered, clearly surprised at Elrond’s kindness and at the ease of conducting business.

“It is a mark of my desire for there to be no foolish animosity between our peoples, as well as a sign of our hope for a prosperous trading future to come. I am also happy to help a descendant of Celebrimbor however I can. I promised him ere his death that if ever his child’s descendants came to me for assistance, I would not fail to offer them my aid. Celebrimbor was a great friend to me and a great friend to the Dwarves,” Elrond answered.

“Thank you,” Alaisia murmured, touched by the confirmation that Celebrimbor _did_ care deeply about Nalonis and the descendants of his union with her.

Lord Elrond nodded and smiled kindly at the Dwarves seated around his table. “We need to ready everything for our departure, so you can plan to rest here for a week’s time. The hospitality of Rivendell is yours for the duration of your stay here.”

Following Elrond’s words, the group finished dining and ventured over to the Hall of Fire for an evening of storytelling and dancing. Alaisia noted with much pleasure that a smile crept over Thorin’s features as the two of them listened to stories of the old heroes of Middle-earth and Beleriand. One song featured the exploits of Durin the Deathless, which caught Thorin by surprise but held him in rapt attention.

_If a Dwarf as stubborn as my Thorin can accept the Elves, perhaps the rest of our people can learn to be more open-minded as well_ , Alaisia thought as she snuggled into Thorin’s side.


	50. Days in the Hidden Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Alaisia explore Rivendell together.

Alaisia stirred and nuzzled Thorin’s bare chest as she awoke, allowing herself to sink deeper into the soft, cloud-like bed. Thorin mumbled something in response and pulled Alaisia closer to him, wrapping a protective arm around her.  

“This bed is so much more comfortable than sleeping on the ground,” Alaisia murmured as she sighed contentedly against Thorin. She was _not_ looking forward to camping on their way back to Tharbad or to returning to her worn, stiff bed there, even if they would not linger for long.

“Aye, we should try to get something like this for our quarters once we are settled in. I daresay this bed is even more luxurious than my bed back in Erebor.”

“High praise of something Elvish!” Alaisia remarked with much surprise, causing Thorin to roll his eyes. Alaisia ignored Thorin’s eye-roll and decided to climb on top of him, kissing him squarely on the lips and entangling her hands in his hair. She deepened the kiss, eliciting a moan from Thorin as he placed his hands on the small of Alaisia’s back. Before they could do much more, however, the melodic ringing of the breakfast bell sounded.

“Perhaps we could forestall breakfast?” Thorin hopefully asked as he rose in the bed, pulling Alaisia into his lap as he did so.

The thought _was_ very tempting, particularly given how Thorin was seductively planting kisses along Alaisia’s neck and shoulder blade, but there would be plenty of time for what he was proposing in the evening. Somewhat reluctantly, Alaisia disentangled herself from Thorin’s arms and hopped out of the bed. She smirked over her shoulder at his indignant huff.

“There is far too much to do and see in our short time here, my love!” Alaisia exclaimed breathlessly as she turned to face Thorin. “We should go eat breakfast with the others so that we can begin exploring the city together. There is much for you to visit.”

A tender smile spread across Thorin’s face upon seeing Alaisia’s eagerness. “I suppose we can always resume this later. As long as I can spend the day at your side, I shall be content.”

He slipped out of the bed and donned a blue tunic with gray pants to match the pale blue dress that Alaisia chose. After the pair deemed themselves presentable, they made their way to the dining pavilion where they enjoyed a breakfast of fresh fruit, sausage, and seedcakes.

“I thought that Elves usually were vegetarian, but there was excellent meat last night _and_ this morning,” Thorin said as he greedily devoured the last of the sausage on his plate.

“Not all Elves, only some,” Alaisia explained. She hummed happily as she finished the generous helping of fruit she had taken, her mind drifting back to her youth in Dale, the city of orchards. “I truly hope that we will have success in growing our own food. I forgot how wonderful it is to have fresh fruit in the morning. We had so many orchards scattered throughout Dale—I used to pick fruit to snack on during my morning walks.”

“We’ll have to clear away some more trees in front of the kingdom, but I think it can be done,” Thorin mused. “Few among us are skilled gardeners, however. Perhaps we should consult with Elves before planting anything.”

“Aye, or see if any Hobbits from the Shire are willing to assist us. They are renowned for their green thumbs,” Alaisia answered.

After breakfast, Alaisia’s parents left with Drayli and Dis to find the blacksmisths, Dwalin sought out the practice yard to see how many Elves he could best in sparring matches, and Lindir escorted Balin to the library. Alaisia, determined to give Thorin a tour of Rivendell, tugged him down a garden path.

“Over there are the healing quarters where I recovered,” Alaisia gestured. “This path here weaves through Rivendell’s gardens.”

“Are these the gardens that Legolas showed you?” Thorin asked. “I would like to see the garden they made to commemorate Dale and Erebor.”

“Yes, I wanted to show you that as well”. Alaisia paused at Thorin’s mention of Legolas. She wondered how Legolas, more aligned with Elrond’s perspective on the world, felt about Thranduil’s decision to linger in isolation. Surely he would not have been in favor of such a move? Alaisia’s mind drifted to the future.  _Will Legolas actually be able to offer us any aid as he promised when the time comes to reclaim Erebor and Dale, or will his father forbid any effort to assist us?_ The latter seemed far more likely…

Thorin’s arm encircling her waist tore Alaisia out of her musings regarding the future. She cast a smile in his direction and continued walking down the garden path, enjoying the sweet smell of a multitude of blooming flowers that wafted toward her.

“This place is very peaceful. It reminds me somewhat of Dale, and of the gardens that we visited there,” Thorin noted, his tone laced with nostalgia.  

Alaisia nodded thoughtfully. _I wish that we had more time together in Dale,_ she thought as she scanned the path in front of them until she found what she sought.

“There,” she whispered as she pointed at the memorial garden and tablet. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and it took all of her willpower to not dissolve into tears beside her future husband.

“They inscribed it in Elvish and in the Common Tongue,” Thorin whispered as he knelt down respectfully in front of the garden plot. “They show so much kindness in doing this. When I was a mere Dwarfling, I collected these flowers with my mother on the mountainside in the spring,” he whispered hoarsely as he gently plucked one of the flowers. “These flowers are found nowhere else in Middle-earth, except Erebor and here in Rivendell.”

“Elrond’s folk are a tolerant and thoughtful lot. We should get seed packets from them to start a garden of these flowers in our new home,” Alaisia replied as she lowered herself to the ground beside Thorin. She plucked a Dale rose and inhaled its comforting scent before sighing wistfully at all that they had lost.

“Alaisia,” Thorin said as he placed a hand on her cheek to turn her face toward him. “I give you my word that we will one day reclaim Erebor from the clutches of Smaug, and that when we do so we will help to rebuild Dale as well. I’ll rebuild your old home, or construct a different one for us, so that we may visit the city often. I will not keep you always hidden beneath the mountain, for I know that you cherish the outdoors and the light of the sun.”

Sniffling slightly, Alaisia leaned in to kiss Thorin. “Thank you, my love,” she whispered.

The pair sat in silence for a while longer, remembering the fallen and dreaming of the restoration of their former home, before rising to continue their walk through the gardens. After exploring the rest of the gardens, Alaisia and Thorin came to a breezy clearing in a grove of trees.

“I believe that there is a shortcut to the library up ahead,” Alaisia said. “Shall we go find Balin and see if he has found out anything about our home in the Blue Mountains?”

Thorin nodded and followed Alaisia. Sure enough, after a short time they came to the library and walked in to see Balin, spectacles out, nearly enveloped in a pile of aged scrolls and books. It was a rather comical sight, for some of the stacks of books scattered around Balin surpassed him in height. A tell-tale smudge of ink on Balin’s cheek suggested that he had been taking notes on the books.

Alaisia stifled a giggle, and Thorin smiled at seeing his cousin Balin so immersed in his reading.

“He’s always been at his happiest when he is surrounded by words,” Thorin whispered to Alaisia.

“I heard that,” Balin remarked without looking up from the book he was reading, “and it is quite true! This library puts the library we had in Erebor to shame. I could spend _years_ in here! They have many books in the Common Tongue.”

“I spent much of my time in the library on my previous visit here as well,” Alaisia replied fondly as she carefully lifted some of the books to take a seat next to Balin. “Have you found anything interesting about our prospective home?”

“Very little on that subject, unfortunately,” Balin muttered with some frustration. “The only book that has mentioned it said that Durin IV’s youngest son Aldir ventured west to the Blue Mountains and built a grand mansion there that the Dwarves called Dvergatal. In the Common Tongue it was called Durin’s Rest. Why it was ever abandoned is beyond me, lassie—this tome speaks of great mineral wealth there.”

“But there was no mention of any danger there, such as a Balrog?” Thorin pressed.

“None that I can find,” Balin affirmed. “Of course, that does not mean that we should abandon all caution. We do not want to press our fortunes as our forebears did in Khazad-dum.”

“That is good counsel, and I am glad to hear that there is no _known_ threat in our new home,” Thorin replied as he huffed out a sigh of relief. “Perhaps we may finally find the refuge and prosperity that we have long promised our people in Dvergatal.”

~~~

Alaisia arose early the next morning and, seeing Thorin still sleeping deeply with light snores puffing out of his mouth, lifted his arm carefully to leave the bed without disturbing him. They had stayed rather late in the Hall of Fire before wandering the starlit paths of Rivendell, which led them to a cliffside overlook partly hidden behind a waterfall where they made out with one another until a passing Elf spotted them, at which point they hurried back to their room in a flight of embarrassment. Alaisia thanked Mahal for the umpteenth time that she did not recognize said Elf, and carefully dressed and departed the room without rousing Thorin for he likely needed the additional sleep. It was too early still for the formal group breakfast, so Alaisia went to the kitchens to obtain some pastries to eat from the Elves that were baking goods there. She meandered down a garden path until she found a secluded courtyard from which the telltale  _clang_ of a sparring match emanated.

As she rounded the corner, she saw Elladan and Elrohir sparring with one another. The twins moved swiftly and gracefully as they each fought with dual blades, neither seeming to gain the upper hand. Alaisia stood as silently as possible at the edge of the courtyard to watch the spectacle unfold without disturbing Elrond’s sons. Her efforts failed, however, as both twins ceased fighting to look at her.

“Elladan, it would seem that we have a spectator,” Elrohir said with a flicker of amusement.

“You are awake early, Alaisia Glavrem,” Elladan remarked.

“Indeed, I found myself growing restless early this morning. I know that we will be leaving Imladris in a few short days, so I did not want to waste my time here spending too much time asleep. I came across the two of you sparring and thought to watch.”

“You wish to learn from us, or merely to watch?” Elrohir queried.

Alaisia nodded eagerly. “If the two of you do not mind, I would very much like to learn more about the art of combat from you. Legolas trained me further in the art of the bow, but he did not teach me anything about Elvish swordfighting.”

The twins nodded in unison. “You have your sword with you—show us your skill with a blade, and we shall show you how you may improve it,” Elladan declared.

Alaisia stepped forward into the courtyard and began demonstrating her typical swordfighting style to Elladan and Elrohir. On one thrust forward, her blade met another blade, causing Alaisia to draw back in surprise.

“You did not see me coming,” Elrohir remarked with a wry smile. “You fight well, but not with much grace. My brother and I will teach you how to move faster, more unpredictably, and to better guard for surprise attacks.”

“If it pleases you, you can train with us each day for the duration of your stay and on the journey back to Tharbad,” Elladan added.

“I would like that very much,” Alaisia replied, “thank you both.”

With that, the two brothers began instructing Alaisia in their way of fighting, demonstrating their technique and helping her to mirror them. Elvish fighting was quite different from what Alaisia was accustomed to, and her Dwarvish frame struggled with some of the fluid motions that the Elf-twins demonstrated, but she felt that she was making _some_ progress. The three heard footsteps after several hours had passed and turned to see Dis approaching them.

“Young Lady Dis, how fare you this morning?” Elrohir asked.

“I am quite well, thank you for asking,” Dis answered. “I apologize for interrupting the three of you.”

“There is no need at all to apologize,” Elladan assured her. “Would you care to join us? My brother and I are teaching Alaisia about the Elvish way of the sword.”

“I fear that I might be out of my depth with you,” Dis responded sorrowfully. “Alaisia taught me how to wield a blade, but I have precious little practical experience.”

Elladan hummed thoughtfully, then went to a stand with swords and grabbed one. He tested its weight and then tossed it over to Dis, who caught it easily.

“You know swords well enough to catch one even when surprised,” Elrohir said with a mischievious grin spreading across his face. “Come, we shall teach you what we know.”

Alaisia gave her soon to be sister-in-law an encouraging smile and Dis walked forward into the courtyard to join them. The two Dwarves followed the instructions of Elladan and Elrohir, eagerly absorbing the knowledge that the brothers imparted.

 _Dis is doing quite well_ , Alaisia thought with pride as she looked over at her. _She has come a long way since I first taught her how to use a sword when she was little more than a Dwarfling_.

“I think that you two are making progress. Perhaps it is time to practice against someone! I propose a two-on-two sparring match: Elrohir and I against the two of you,” Elladan suggested.

Dis looked at Alaisia and nodded. “Challenge accepted!” Dis declared.

Thus, the four began sparring, and Dis and Alaisia did their best to hold their own against the much more experienced Elves. Unsurprisingly, Elladan and Elrohir emerged victorious in the end. Alaisia had a sneaking suspicion that the Elves had nevertheless been rather gentle with them, neglecting to show their full strength so that they might better assess her and Dis’ abilities.

“You both fought valiantly,” Elrohir remarked with a slight bow to the two dwarrowdams.

“Indeed, it would seem that your efforts drew an audience,” Elladan whispered wryly as he gestured behind the two Dwarves.

Alaisia and Dis turned in the direction Elladan was pointing to find Thorin and Drayli watching, each wearing a rather sheepish grin.

“Were you two watching us the entire time?” Alaisia asked with her hands on her hips.

“Not quite, but for a good while,” Thorin said as he strode forward to meet Alaisia. He slipped his arm around her waist and the pair turned to see Drayli and Dis meet. Drayli looked at Dis intently for a moment before he drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

Elladan and Elrohir whistled (which Alaisia thought seemed very un-Elflike, but then these two _were_ notorious for their mischievous antics in Imladris), and Thorin colored slightly at seeing Drayli’s forwardness with his sister. Alaisia beamed and gave Thorin a peck on the cheek.

“Come, Thorin, I am happy for them,” she whispered in his ear.

“I am as well,” Thorin replied, “although I _do_ wish that they would do that somewhere more private, where I did not have to see.”

Alaisia giggled at Thorin’s embarrassment, thinking of how the poor Elf that saw her and Thorin last night must have felt, and tugged Thorin away to follow the Elf-twins, Drayli, and Dis to a well-earned lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since in my AU Thorin has a queen, I did not want to refer to his kingdom in the Blue Mountains as Thorin's Halls. Dvergatal is the name of part of a Norse saga that Tolkien used as inspiration for Dwarf character names, so it seemed an appropriate choice :)


	51. Facing the People

As planned, Thorin and his companions lingered in Rivendell for about a week. Thorin, though loathe to admit it, found Rivendell quite relaxing. It had been far too long since he last had a chance for leisure given how busy his role as King kept him. He promised Alaisia as they left that they would visit Rivendell at least once a year, and he was pleased to see that her mournful demeanor at leaving Rivendell lifted somewhat with that promise. The Dwarves rode back to Tharbad with Elrond, Elrond’s three children, Lindir, and several Elf guards in tow. Four large wagons accompanied them, bearing food, seeds, gardening implements, and blankets to aid the Dwarves on their journey westward to Dvergatal in the Blue Mountains.

Lord Elrond turned to Thorin and Alaisia as Tharbad’s silhouette loomed on the horizon after several days of riding. “Ere we left Imladris, I sent word to my kin in the Grey Havens regarding our newly forged partnership. When you arrive at your new kingdom and have cleared sufficient space to begin planting, Elves from the Grey Havens will help you establish your gardens. They are more familiar than my people are with that clime,” Lord Elrond explained to Alaisia and Thorin.

“Thank you for arranging that for us—we will be sure to reach out to them,” Alaisia responded gratefully.  She looked ahead to the aged Numenorean city before sighing and turning her gaze to the Greyflood River to their right.

Concern creased Thorin’s countenance when he observed Alaisia’s forlorn demeanor. _Does she regret leaving Rivendell, or fear the future?_ Thorin found himself wondering.

“What is it that you fear, my love?” Thorin asked his bride-to-be, although he felt some trepidation as he awaited her answer.

Alaisia huffed out a sigh and turned to meet Thorin’s tender eyes. “We will be back in Tharbad soon, and my heritage will be known to all. I must admit that I look forward to no longer having to conceal it, but I fear that they still might not accept me.”

Thorin grimaced at Alaisia’s concern. Part of him still felt the very same fear, for he knew that bias against Elves ran deep among his people. However, Lord Elrond and his folk had never committed any crimes against Thorin’s people as Thranduil had. It stood to reason that the Elves providing food and other necessities might be sufficient to win over the common folk—or at least preclude open dissent. _In any event, it is my job to console her, not to further augment her fears_ , Thorin mused. With time, Thorin felt confident that his people would embrace Alaisia in spite of her Elvish heritage, for they had taken to the idea of her as Queen warmly enough before breaking that news.

“I sincerely hope that your fears will prove unfounded. Follow the plan that we discussed with Lord Elrond. The people will love you just as much, if not more, than they did before if they see how your Elvish ties are an asset rather than something to be suspicious of,” Thorin murmured as he reached out to take Alaisia’s hand. They rode like that, hand in hand, until they came to the gate at Tharbad.

Thorin rode in first, followed closely by Alaisia and the others. The procession of Dwarves and Elves moved swiftly through the streets, gathering a gaggle of curious Dwarves behind them, until they reached the central plaza. Thorin dismounted his pony and offered his hand to Alaisia to assist her, and the pair climbed a set of stairs in front of the old city hall to address their people.

He looked out at the mass of Dwarves. They looked rather befuddled at the presence of Elves, and some were eyeing Lord Elrond and his children skeptically, but their interest was undeniably piqued by the wagons of goods they had brought with them. If his recent time with the Elves had taught Thorin anything, it was that Dwarves were far more concerned with material possessions than Elves were. Perhaps what they brought, and the promise of future prosperity, would be enough to mollify any discontent among his people at the news of Alaisia’s heritage and their dealings with Elves. _I hope that I really am right_ , Thorin thought as fear began to gnaw at him and his mind drifted back to his earlier conversation with Alaisia. _If I am wrong, and my people refuse to accept the Glavrem family legacy, I do not know what I shall do..._

He took a deep breath, squeezed Alaisia’s hand tightly, and addressed his people as his heart raced in his chest.

“We return to you with glad tidings,” Thorin began. “The Firebeards and the Broadbeams have granted us the rights to an abandoned kingdom in the Blue Mountains. This kingdom was apparently founded by a son of Durin IV and is called Dvergatal, or Durin’s Rest. While we do not know the reason for its abandonment, it holds a strategic position in the Blue Mountains and appears to be home to abundant mineral wealth. With the proper renovations and furnishings, it will provide a safe and prosperous home for us.”

The crowd cheered and the gathered Dwarves began murmuring excitedly to one another about a life filled with riches and plenty once more.

Thorin raised a hand to silence the crowd. “My future Queen will speak now.” He turned to Alaisia and nodded encouragingly, keeping her hand firmly grasped in his.

“There is more good news to share with you all. With a new kingdom, we will need new trading arrangements. We will of course continue to trade with the villages of Men, but we shall also start trading with the two other houses of the Dwarves that live in the Blue Mountains.” She paused, letting the cheers of the Dwarves at new trading partnerships subside.

“Furthermore, we will begin exchanging goods with Lord Elrond of Rivendell,” Alaisia continued. “He has graciously offered food, seeds, gardening tools, and blankets to our people to assist in our journey to Dvergatal without expecting any payment in return. Once we are settled in our new home, we will begin a more formal trading relationship with Rivendell that should prove quite fruitful for our people and theirs.”

Thorin nodded and resumed speaking. “The Elves were once great friends of the Dwarves of Moria. Long ago, they traded with one another and exchanged knowledge. There is no ill will between us and Lord Elrond’s folk, for they have only ever offered us aid in times of need. They offer us the current assistance and promise of trade not only out of the kindness of their hearts but also because of who my future Queen is.”

Alaisia took a shuddering breath before rallying herself to speak confidently before the Dwarves who were murmuring curiously amongst themselves. “Celebrimbor was one of the greatest Elf-friends to the Dwarves of Khazad-dum. He had a great love for Dwarves and our culture, and he even fell in love with a Dwarf-maid named Nalonis. Nalonis was the daughter of Narvi, the carver of the doors of Moria. Nalonis and Celebrimbor had a child together who was passed off as the child of Nalonis’ brother for fear of possible rejection if the truth were known.”

Alaisia paused briefly, and Thorin thought that he detected the slightest hint of panic flitting across her face. Thorin shifted so that his arm was resting around her waist in a gesture of support and reassurance. His movement had the desired effect, for Alaisia squared her shoulders and proceeded. “That child was my ancestor. I am descended not from the son of Narvi, but from his daughter and the Elf-lord Celebrimbor. I may not be wholly Dwarven in blood, but I am wholly Dwarven in spirit and I promise you all that I will bear nothing but your best interest in my heart as your Queen.”

Stunned silence filled the gathering for a short while as the Dwarves digested the news that Thorin and Alaisia had shared with them. Thorin tightened his jaw nervously and held his breath as he awaited a response from his people. After a short wait, Thorin’s family knelt in respect before Thorin and Alaisia, followed by Alaisia’s parents. The Dwarves that served under Alaisia's command in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs then bowed deeply to their King and Queen. A shaky sigh of relief exited Thorin’s parted lips as the remainder of the Dwarves bowed quietly. He quirked a grin as he saw Alaisia fight back tears of joy.

“You may rise,” Alaisia said solemnly as she addressed the crowd. As they rose, the Dwarves began to cheer.

“Long live the King and the Queen!” they shouted. Several Dwarves were looking at Alaisia with a newfound respect, some glancing between her and the wagons filled with food with merry smiles on their faces.

“I told you they would love you and not despise you for your connection to Celebrimbor,” Thorin whispered with a smile.

“The food and other goods from the Elves certainly do not hurt either,” Alaisia remarked wryly.

Thorin embraced his fiancee before the crowd, causing a renewed chorus of cheers. His eyes found Elrond standing with his three children by the wagons, and Thorin gave them a grateful nod. Elrond, Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir returned it with warm smiles.

 _All will be well after all_ , Thorin thought as he smiled and pulled Alaisia closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for following this story! We are down to the last two chapters now of this part of the story. One will cover Thorin and Alaisia's wedding, and the other will be an epilogue. I plan to post both next week Wednesday. As always, comments/reviews are welcomed!


	52. King and Queen Under the Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Alaisia get married!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some new Khuzdul words are used in this chapter. Translations for them are in the end notes.

**_15 months later_ **

Alaisia fidgeted nervously with her wedding gown as she tried to straighten out a few stray wrinkles. In truth, the wedding ceremony itself felt more like a formality, for she and Thorin had been intimate with one another for over a year. The wedding ceremony did not make Alaisia anxious; rather, she was eager to be officially married to Thorin so that they would no longer have to sneak into one another’s chambers at night. What caused Alaisia’s fidgeting was her knowledge of the impending coronation ceremony. She had begun to take on some royal responsibilities already, but in a few short hours she would officially become Queen of the Longbeards of Dvergatal.

As a child, she had never imagined rising to the station of Dwarven royalty. She had envisioned a future quite similar to that of her parents’ existence—making and selling jewelry and armor for a living. Thorin told her a few days prior that her upbringing as a commoner would be an asset to her as Queen, and that she would always be sure to keep the needs of the common folk of the realm close to heart. Their wellbeing would be Alaisia’s responsibility as well as Thorin’s now.

Seeking one last moment of encouragement to dispel her nerves, Alaisia spoke in a hushed whisper. “Will I make a good Queen, _Amad_ and _Adad_?”

Her mother smiled sympathetically before wrapping her in a warm embrace. “ _Nathith_ , of course you will. You have already been doing an excellent job. Do not overthink things as you are wont to do,” Thila reassured her daughter.

“Aye, you have nothing to worry about,” Morak said gently as he kissed his daughter’s head. “We are both so proud of you, and so happy for you. You shall make a fine Queen.”

“Thank you,” Alaisia murmured in response. She smiled gratefully and looked at herself in the mirror, checking her appearance one final time. Lady Arwen had generously offered to make her wedding gown in a style that united Dwarvish and Elvish fashions. The dress was constructed primarily from a subtle floral brocade fabric in a deep Durin blue. It fit Alaisia’s torso closely with a round neckline and flared out gently below the waist, ending in a slight train that pooled gently at Alasia’s feet. The sleeves, lined with silver silk, were parted and left open just below the shoulder in a homage to Elvish wedding dresses. Silver embroidery and crystal work emulating flowers and vines circled Alaisia’s shoulders and the edge of the sleeves. She accented the gown with a sapphire and crystal necklace that Thorin had made for her using the sapphire he found in the mines when they first explored Dvergatal.

A simple silver tiara that resembled flowering branches woven together was the final component of Alaisia’s ensemble, but she would not don it until the coronation after the wedding. The tiara was another gift from the Elves of Rivendell, and it would serve as her crown as Queen. 

“Are you ready?” Thila asked her daughter. Alaisia took a deep breath and nodded, linking one arm with each of her parents’ arms. The trio wound their way down a series of passageways before they came to the entrance of the grand hall at Dvergatal. Flower petals of many hues were strewn along the length of the carpet that stretched from the entrance to the throne, and flowering garlands encircled the aged stone columns. As Alaisia and her parents proceeded, the attendees in the hall rose, and a small band began playing harps.

Alaisia felt her heart threaten to pound rapidly in her chest when she saw the large number of Dwarves that were in attendance, but she looked up the stairs at the end of the aisle to the platform where Thorin awaited her, and the tender gaze he met her with made her heart sing. Thorin’s face was illuminated with joy as he looked down the aisle upon Alaisia in her wedding dress for the first time. Fighting the urge to run to meet Thorin, Alaisia forced herself to maintain a more dignified pace and allowed her parents to escort her down the aisle to her future husband. She offered a bright grin to Dis, Drayli, Dwalin, Gloin, and Oin who were all gathered in the front row of attendees, as well as to Lord Elrond and his three children.

Carefully, Alaisia picked her way up the staircase to the platform that supported the twin thrones of Dvergatal. Alaisia had insisted on delaying the construction of her throne, thinking it a waste of resources, but Thorin had one made anyway and surprised Alaisia with it on her birthday. Her parents released her arms at the top of the stairs, allowing Alaisia to move to Thorin’s side.

Thorin caressed Alaisia’s cheek as she approached him. “You look stunning, _sanghivasha_ ,” he whispered reverently as his eyes roved over Alaisia.

“And you look impeccably handsome, _kurdunuh_ ,” Alaisia replied lovingly as tears pricked at her eyes. Thorin was wearing a regal cloak with silver fur over a Durin blue embroidered silk tunic and black pants. He wore a simple Dwarven crown in silver adorned with gold geometric patterns.

Drayli rose from his seat below the platform and brought the rings up to Thorin and Alaisia. Thorin’s ring was the one that Alaisia made for him previously from Elvish metal, and Alaisia chose to keep as her wedding band the ring Thorin gave to her in Tharbad. Thorin had added delicate floral carvings to the band when he found out what Alaisia’s crown would look like. He pressed a soft kiss to Alaisia’s hand before sliding the ring onto it, and Alaisia slid the ring she made for Thorin onto his hand afterward. The pair turned to Balin, the Dwarf who would be officiating their marriage.

Balin sniffled slightly and dabbed at his eyes to clear away some stray tears before he turned to Alaisia. “Alaisia, you may profess your wedding vows to Thorin, your future husband.”

Alaisia took a steadying breath before beginning her vows, hoping fervently that she would recall everything that she wished to say to her love. “Thorin,” Alaisia murmured as she clasped his hands in her own, “Our life together began in a rather unlikely friendship many long years ago in Dale. You have stood by my side through countless perils over the years. To this day, you remain my confidant, my supporter, my lover, and my dearest friend. I cannot wait to marry you and begin the next chapter of our lives together. My life is complete only if you are in it.”

“And Thorin, it is now your turn to profess your vows to Alaisia, your future wife,” Balin uttered in an increasingly quavering voice.

“Alaisia,” Thorin began as he fought back tears, “We have known one another for many years now. Your fierce independence, your bravery, and your wit won me over in our first meeting. Since then, my love for you has only grown through all of the obstacles placed before us. Whatever the future may hold for the two of us, I wish to face it with you at my side.”

Balin breathed deeply to rein in his emotions. “Now then, it is time to speak the formal marriage vows to one another.”

Thorin and Alaisia spoke in unison. “I shall love no other and covet no other. I shall ever remain faithfully at your side and defend you from any peril that you may face. By Mahal the Maker, I am yours, and you are mine, from this day, until the end of my days. _Khaz torak rar azamar_.”

“Thus I decree that King Thorin Oakenshield, and Alaisia Idhrenniel Glavrem, are officially as one in marriage. The bride and groom may kiss now,” Balin declared with a twinkle in his eyes.

Thorin grinned broadly as he pulled Alaisia to him and kissed her full on the mouth, lifting her up and spinning her around in the process. Alaisia returned the kiss eagerly and threw her arms around her husband with a peal of cheerful laughter. After sharing several more kisses, the pair broke apart and turned to face their people.

“Now, you shall all bear witness to the formal coronation of my bride,” Thorin announced. He motioned for Balin to bring Alaisia’s crown to him, and Alaisia knelt softly before Thorin as he took the crown from Balin and placed it on Alaisia’s head.

“Do you swear to uphold the laws and spirit of our people, ever in their defense and never to their detriment?”

“Aye, I do swear to defend and support the welfare of our people,” Alaisia solemnly answered.

“Do you swear to rule steadfastly as my Queen, to rule our kingdom together, and to rule in my stead if I am unable to fulfill my duties as King?”

“Aye, I pledge to hold true to my responsibilities as Queen,” Alaisia declared.

Thorin nodded. “With these vows spoken, and our people and kin as witnesses, I formally appoint Alaisia Glavrem as my Queen. Rise, and face our people together.”

Alaisia accepted Thorin’s offered hand and rose to stand at his side, clasping his hand tightly as she turned her eyes to the crowd of wedding guests.

“Thank you all for attending our wedding. Now, it would not be a proper royal wedding without a feast for all!” Alaisia announced.

“Let the feast begin,” Thorin cheerfully bellowed as a small army of Dwarves began bringing food into the hall. The extended royal family, along with a few other Dwarven nobles and Elrond’s clan, retreated to a table set up behind the two thrones for the feast. With Dvergatal prospering thanks to trade with other Dwarves and the Elves of Imladris, Thorin and Alaisia were able to provide a massive banquet with decadent meats, fresh fruit, pastries, an array of cheeses, and rich desserts for their people to enjoy. Various well-wishers came forward to address the King and his new Queen during the feast as merriment swept through the hall.

After they finished their meal, Thorin and Alaisia opened the gifts they had received from those gathered at the table with them. At last, they turned to open the gifts they gave to each other. Thorin opened his gift from Alaisia first and gasped when he cast the wrapping material aside.

“A new harp,” he whispered hoarsely. The harp was golden and adorned with fine gemstones. Thorin carefully strummed the cords to test the new instrument and beamed when it sang out melodically. “I have greatly missed my old harp ever since it was lost in Smaug’s attack. Thank you for the thoughtful gift, _amralime_.”

Alaisia leaned over to kiss her husband’s cheek sweetly. “You are most welcome. I still remember that night when I visited Erebor and you played the harp for all of us—I had never heard anything so beautiful, nor have I since then,” Alaisia replied softly.

“If that was the inspiration for this gift, I must promise to play the harp for you as many evenings as possible,” Thorin said with a wink. “I hope that my gift will not disappoint in comparison.”

“I am sure that your gift is excellent,” Alaisia answered as she eagerly opened her gift. Her eyes widened and her mouth curved into a delighted smile when she saw what Thorin’s gift was. Thorin had made Alaisia a pair of reinforced leather boots engraved to match both the leather gear she crafted for herself in Dale as well as the vambraces she had made for Thorin in the same style. With the boots he included two daggers with jeweled hilts—sapphires, of course, for they were Alaisia’s favorite gemstone—that he forged himself.

Alaisia lifted the daggers reverently. “Thank you, _urzudel_. These are beyond lovely. I am almost afraid to mar them in combat, but I believe that they will serve me well! The boots are absolutely perfect, and I can tell that you made them to resemble my old gear from Dale. These will get good use on our future adventures!”

Thorin chuckled as he exhaled a sigh of relief at the favor Alaisia showed regarding her wedding gifts. “I am glad that you like them, and that I managed to not muddle the engraving,” Thorin murmured fondly as he leaned forward to kiss Alaisia.

“Are you two lovebirds going to get a room soon?” Dwalin teased, causing Dis and Balin to elbow him in unison.

“Soon,” Thorin said as he looked at Alaisia, “but first, I wish to dance with my Queen.” He held out his arm for Alaisia, and the pair moved to dance slowly in front of the two thrones. Alaisia allowed herself to melt into Thorin’s arms, and she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck.

“I’m home,” she whispered against him.

“So am I,” he murmured as he softly embraced Alaisia and swayed to the music of the harps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Khuzdul translations:  
> Amad = mother  
> Adad = father  
> Nathith = daughter  
> Amralime = my love  
> Sanghivasha = perfect treasure  
> Kurdunuh = my heart  
> Khaz torak rar azamar = our souls are forever joined  
> Urzudel = sun of all suns
> 
> I hope that you all enjoyed the wedding chapter! This was one of the harder chapters to write in the story. I wanted to keep it relatively fluffy/sweet and I hope that I delivered on that. One part of Thorin and Alaisia's wedding vows was inspired by Game of Thrones. I will post the final chapter in a bit - it is a short epilogue to wrap up this part of the story.


	53. On the Shores of the Sea (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter, in which Thorin and Alaisia camp at the sea, and at last have children of their own. Fili and Kili meet their new cousins.

**T.A. 2917**

Alaisia carefully picked her way across the soft sand of the secluded beach, one hand tightly entwined with Thorin’s for support as she looked out at the azure sea. Her other hand gently cradled her swelling belly.

Getting to this stage of pregnancy had been quite a challenge for Alaisia. She and Thorin had waited years to even try for a child, for they were consumed with the management of Dvergatal and ensuring the stable prosperity of their people. Several years after Dis and Drayli had Fili and Kili, Thorin and Alaisia decided they were _finally_ ready to have a rambunctious Dwarfling of their own.

Unfortunately, Alaisia’s first pregnancy ended in a miscarriage after Thorin returned home to Dvergatal having been seriously injured during an assault on his trading caravan by bandits. Thorin, Drayli, and a group of merchants were ambushed less than a day out of Rivendell. While Thorin returned to Dvergatal alive, after receiving help from Lord Elrond, poor Drayli was not as fortunate. Drayli succumbed to his injuries in the Houses of Healing of Rivendell. Alaisia still remembered Dis’ heartbreaking wail of grief when Thorin delivered the news of Drayli’s death, and the difficulty of explaining the tragedy to young Fili and Kili, who were but nine and four at the time.

Alaisia and Thorin waited many years after that to even _attempt_ to get pregnant again, raising Fili with Dis to be the heir to the throne during the interim in case she and Thorin never managed to have a child of their own. Once Thorin and Alaisia decided they were ready to try for a child again, it required quite some time for a pregnancy to take.

“I still cannot believe that after all of this time, when I finally am able to get pregnant and stay pregnant, we are being blessed with twins,” Alaisia murmured in awe to her husband. “Seldom are twins birthed among our people.”

“I was in disbelief when Oin told me,” Thorin admitted. “He is an excellent healer and rarely wrong about such things, though.”

“Let us hope that all goes well for the remainder of the pregnancy,” Alaisia wished. Oin fretted over making sure Alaisia got plenty of rest, much to Alaisia’s chagrin at times, for Oin worried that over-exertion could cause her to miscarry lose the twins. The brief coastal camping trip had been Balin’s suggestion—it provided a way for Thorin and Alaisia to spend some time alone together, at peace in nature and away from the challenges of ruling a kingdom. Dwalin had chimed in, joking that Oin was being far too much of a mother hen and that it would be good for Thorin and Alaisia to escape his oversight for a short while.

“The sea really is beautiful,” Thorin whispered as he knelt down in front of Alaisia. He turned to face Alaisia and, looking up at her, pressed a kiss to her baby bump. Thorin leaned his forehead gently against Alaisia’s belly and smiled.

“I am ready to have children of our own at last,” he said fondly.

“So am I, _amralime_ ,” Alaisia responded with a smile as she threaded her fingers through Thorin’s hair, gently massaging his scalp. She lowered herself down to sit in Thorin’s lap, wrapping her arms tenderly around his neck. The pair watched the sunset in contented silence before weaving their way back in the starlight to the small tent they had pitched. There, Alaisia curled up on the plush bedroll she and Thorin had brought with them, and she dozed off into blissful sleep as Thorin tenderly held her.

~~~

**Several months later**

Thorin wiped the sweat off his brow and exhaled a shaky sigh of relief. Alaisia’s labor had been long, but she had given birth to healthy twins—one boy and one girl. She was sleeping soundly, the birthing process having worn her out, while Thorin held their two bundles of joy. Thorin beamed as he looked down at his son and daughter. There was a time when he feared that he would never have children of his own. He loved Fili and Kili dearly, but nothing could compare to the feeling of having _his_ children in his arms. Feeling a surge of protectiveness regarding the small Dwarves in his arms, Thorin pulled both closer and kissed their small foreheads.

A loud knock on the door startled him, but the knock was more of a formality than a request to enter as two Dwarves barged in, one with raven hair much like Thorin’s and Dis’, the other with shorter blond hair.

“Uncle!” Fili exclaimed eagerly. “Can Kee and I see our new cousins?”

Thorin chuckled at his two nephews. “Aye, but take care that you do not wake them. It’ll be your responsibility to quiet them if they awake and start crying. Your Aunt Alaisia is still resting, too.”

Kili cheekily held up his hand in a _shushing_ sign at his elder brother who rolled his eyes at him. The two brothers walked over to their uncle and each took one of the babies carefully.

“They’re beautiful,” Kili whispered lovingly. “I’ve wanted cousins for so long. Congratulations, Uncle.”

“Thank you,” Thorin murmured proudly. He heard a rustle from the bed to his side and looked down to see Alaisia open her bleary eyes, blinking the last traces of sleep away. It was the first time she had awoken since giving birth and seeing that the two Dwarflings were safe.

“Auntie!” Fili exclaimed. “You are awake! How do you feel?”

“Tired, and a bit sore, but I am glad to see that my beloved nephews are already bonding with my children,” Alaisia replied with a warm smile.

“Would you like to hold them now?” Kili asked.

Alaisia nodded, so Fili and Kili gave the two Dwarflings to her. Alaisia carefully gathered her children in her arms, and Thorin moved to sit on the bed next to Alaisia, gently placing an arm around her and kissing her head lovingly.

“Do they have names yet?” Fili asked.

“Yes,” Alaisia answered. “The boy is called Thornar, and the girl is called Eiraisia.”

“I promise to always protect them and look after them!” Fili declared. As an afterthought, he added “I’ll also _try_ to make sure that Kili doesn’t get them into too much trouble, but no guarantees there.”

Kili elbowed his brother, who made an _oof_ sound in response, before walking over to the bedside. Thorin looked to his nephews, his children, and his wife, feeling happier than he had in a long time. Still, seeing his two children, he knew that they would not linger here in Dvergatal forever. He _would_ return to Erebor and reclaim the kingdom, the home that he grew up in, so that his son could one day inherit his birthright.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much to everyone who has read, commented, and left kudos! This was my very first fanfiction, so constructive feedback and reviews are much appreciated. I hope that you all enjoyed this story. I really enjoyed writing it and am excited to continue Thorin and Alaisia's story in a sequel set during the events of The Hobbit. I have started writing it, but it is still very much a work-in-progress so it will be a while before I am ready to publish it.  
> In the meanwhile, I am considering writing a series of one-shots to bridge the two stories. Ideas that I have so far include Dwalin attempting to babysit the twins + family fluff with Drayli, Dis, Fili, and Kili prior to Drayli's death. If anyone is interested in that series or has ideas/prompts that they would like to see included, please indicate that in the comments section.


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